Hello, Stranger
by Two Of Hearts
Summary: *Part seven uploaded* Lucius and Severus' years at Hogwarts. Warning, Slash. I won't say it again. R/R., please
1. First Year

The Serpent's Tale: Year One  
  
  
  
Lucius Malfoy stood in line impatiently, watching the boy currently sitting under the sorting hat. Remus Lupin was his name, and he was fidgeting quite a lot under the scrutiny of the oversized, overused garmet. He almost chuckled, wondering what exactly the hat was saying to the horrified boy.  
  
Lucius yawned. He certainly hoped the ceremony would be over soon. It was a pain to stand for so long, after being on a train for hours and then rowing across a lake. Not that Lucius didn't like boats, but he wasn't accustomed to so many modes of transportation. If a Malfoy wanted to see somebody, they invited them over. If somebody wanted to see a Malfoy, they came over. A Malfoy never follows, always leads.  
  
And he just knew he was getting into Slytherin. Why wait for the entire ceremony if you were already so damn sure??  
  
He shifted his weight as the hat called out, "GRYFFINDOR!" and fixed his robes. He was next.  
  
"Malfoy, Lucius," Professor McGonagall called out. She was a middle-aged lady, maybe about forty, who had a reputation for being strict. Lucius cringed at the sound of her voice, and stepped forward with his chin held up high.  
  
The hat considered him for maybe half a minute before making its decision and shouting, "SLYTHERIN!" Lucius smiled. Just as he'd suspected.  
  
Ignoring the other children being sorted, he waltzed over to his table amidst the cheers and back pats from his fellow Slytherins. Anyone who was anyone had heard of the Malfoys, and were eager to make themselves known as well.  
  
The ceremony continued, boring, as Lucius suspected, except for a tiny boy who appeared to be all black and white, his skin a rival to Lucius' own. He was sorted into Slytherin, though took no notice of the congratulations he received or the people asking him to sit near them.  
  
Lucius hated to admit it, but he was intrigued.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Every meal went by the same from the beginning feast and onward. Lucius would be swamped by people, (for even the older girls tried to flirt with him,) and the tiny black-swathed Slytherin would sit all on his own, reading or just eating in silence. Nobody tried to approach him anymore, not even the boys from his own dorm, because he simply offered no response. But a Malfoy never gives up. They were a lot of things, but they certainly weren't quitters.  
  
As Lucius headed to class after lunch that day, he rushed ahead of Patrick Parkinson, a boy who seemed more than desperate for Lucius' attention, and caught up with the mystery boy.  
  
"Hey," he offered as way of conversation, but the boy said nothing, just stopped and raised an eyebrow.  
  
"I'm Lucius," he tried again, "Lucius Malfoy." He offered his hand, which was, unsurprisingly, denied. He frowned; this was not going to be easy.  
  
The boy continued on his way without a single word, but Lucius managed to steal a seat next to him in Transfigurations. Professor McGonagall was asking questions of the class, but Lucius payed her no mind. He was trying to remember the dark boy's name...  
  
"Mr. Malfoy?! Are you listening to me?!"  
  
"Huh?" Lucius' head shot up, his blue eyes meeting those of a very angry Professor. He blinked. "I am now," he said, but the lady shook her head. At the other side of the room Lucius spotted a group of Gryffindors who seemed to find his situation very amusing. They'd pay for that.  
  
McGonagall put her hands on her hips. "Alright, Mr. Malfoy. I suppose I should make an example of you, no??" She turned to face the class and address them all. Lucius frowned. He didn't like being an example.  
  
"Detention," she said to the entire room of people, but she was only speaking to Lucius, "for not paying attention. And 3 points from Slytherin." Half the room groaned, but said nothing to protest. "See me after class, Mr. Malfoy." Lucius crossed his arms and muttered, "Yes Ma'am," before pouting into his textbook. Next to him, the black-haired boy was watching his every move.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Lucius' detention was fairly simple. Take a bucket, fill it with water from the pond, and water the four plants standing outside greenhouse two. Easy enough, but boring, and the bucket was heavy. He was on his final trip when he heard an odd sound. One he recognized from his dorm room, but he couldn't identify it.  
  
Walking forward so as to approach the object slowly, he moved through the grass almost as silently as the light breeze, until he came to a tiny person in a black robe, huddled on a hill next to greenhouse five. He knew immediately who the person was, and the sounds coming from him.  
  
In an effort to comfort, he moved to step forward and sit next to him, but he tripped on a stepping stone he had been trying to avoid and he went crashing into the stone in front of him, sending the bucket flying across the ground, and his face into the cement. The other boy spun around swiftly.  
  
"What do you want?!" He demanded loudly, and it was the first time Lucius had heard his voice at all. His face was still pale, but his eyes were rather pink around the edges and he had wet lines on his face from tears. Lucius' own face was stinging as he stared, wide eyed, at the boy towering over his fallen form.  
  
"I," Lucius started, blinking and struggling to sit up. He touched his face, and his fingers came away bloody. Wonderful, and he had such a *nice* face. "I wanted to know if you were-"  
  
"Get out of here."  
  
Lucius was shocked. No one except another Malfoy ever interrupted a Malfoy. But he'd let it slide. For some reason, he liked this angry boy. "But, are you sure you're o-"  
  
"Go away!" The boy yelled, turning away and sitting down angrily on the stone. He turned only long enough to glare at Lucius, who was staring back in shock and hurt.  
  
Silently, and much more smoothly than he had approached, Lucius rushed away to fill his bucket again. He wasn't going to let the boy get to him. Nothing ever got under a Malfoy's skin.  
  
When he reached the lake he filled the bucket, and dipped his palms under the water's surface, cupping the dirty liquid and attempting to wash his face. It stung.  
  
The dark boy sat and watched as Lucius ran away. Everyone knew Lucius, though Lucius couldn't possibly know everyone. He glared as his retreating form. How dare somebody sneak up on him like that! What a nerve!  
  
But the instance replayed in his mind, how Lucius ignored his own injured face to see if he was alright, how hurt he looked when he turned him away for the second time, and the little spark of anger he thought he saw in his pale blue eyes before he grabbed his bucket and stalked off. Then he remembered his father, and how he tried to tell him about getting accepted to Hogwarts-  
  
"Hey, Dad! Guess-"  
  
"Go away Severus." The man answered coldly, not even looking up from his tools. But Severus was not about to give up. He had been accepted to *Hogwarts!* His father was going to be proud.  
  
"But father, I got-"  
  
"*GO *AWAY*, SEVERUS!*" He shouted, spinning around to reveal a very angry father, his hand held back, though he knew he wasn't about to hit him. He'd have to put his book down. Then Severus turned on his heel and retreated.  
  
It just isn't right to treat people like that. So reluctantly he stood and ran after the blond, who was rapidly disappearing before him. Stopping at the greenhouse, he grabbed a clean rag from one of the boxes and hurried down to the lake. Lucius was rubbing his face and whimpering.  
  
Suddenly, the blond froze and stared at the lake. Staring back at him was the same face that sent him away. He turned around and looked up at the boy, whose stare was almost penetrating.  
  
"You will need a rag, to clean that." He said simply and continued to stare. Lucius nodded.  
  
"Once I'm done here, I'm going to get cleaned up." He lifted the bucket one more time, the metal handle digging into his soft palms, as he trudged back to the school.  
  
He quickly watered the last plant and placed the bucket on the ground next to them. One quick glance in the direction he came and he knew the dark- haired boy was gone. He sighed and made his way to the Entrance Hall.  
  
As he rounded the corned where the doors stood, he came face-to-face with the large, dark eyes of the other boy. He didn't move, but blinked. Lucius couldn't help but smile. So he *had* waited for him.  
  
.........................  
  
Back in the dorm room Lucius sat on his bed, his feet dangling lazily off one side, the top of one foot underneath his other. The dark boy was rummaging through his trunk, and picked out a green bottle with a purple cork. Not too attractive, but it looked safe.  
  
He poured some of the liquid on the rag and slowly approached Lucius' face, and the lighter boy didn't even realize he had been flinching away until the rag came in contact with his cheek.  
  
Now *THIS* stung.  
  
He hissed and squirmed away from the rag, fighting the urge to rub his abraised cheek. The other boy said nothing, just watched him for a moment before applying the cloth to his face again. It hurt less this time, and even less the time after, until the small boy moved away and took out another contained of what appeared to be a jar of pinkish jelly.  
  
He wiped the unused part of the rag in the center, and walked back over to Lucius. This time there was no pain, only the creamy feel of the jelly. The boy stared a moment, before nodding and washing off the rag. Lucius crawled to the head of his bed and picked up his bedside mirror. Besides the remnants of the salve, his face was back to normal. He was pretty again.  
  
Severus brought the rag back over, letting Lucius wash his own face, and then inspected him once more. For a moment, Lucius stared at those black eyes, while the other admired his own handiwork. Then, the dark boy's face turned up in what was a rather attractive, though rather meager, smirk.  
  
"Done," he said with finality, as Parkinson entered the room. The intruder looked at Lucius and smiled. "Wanna come to dinner??" he offered, still smiling. Lucius nodded and looked over at his new companion.  
  
Parkinson shifted uneasily. "Er," he started, "You wanna come to, Severus??"  
  
Lucius nearly began jumping up and down. *Now* he remembered his name. The Severus boy nodded as well and they all went down to dinner together, where for the first time since the beginning of the year fest, Severus did not sit alone.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
It was two weeks before Christmas, and Lucius was hating the cold. His new pajamas (for everything he owned was new) were warm and comfortable, except for one thing. One *very* annoying thing. For possibly the fifth time since he put his shirt on, he clawed at the back of his own neck and attempted to tear off the cloth tag. It wouldn't budge. From the bed next to his, Severus was watching with one of his patented half-smirks.  
  
Without a word, the dark-haired boy moved to his trunk as Lucius struggled, and emerged with something in his hand. He pulled Lucius' own hands away from his neck, and that's when he saw something silver reflecting the evening light. Severus had a knife.  
  
Immediately Lucius moved away, scared more of the knife than the person yielding it, and let out a panicked, "What are you *doing?!*"  
  
Severus frowned, and without a word, slipped back to his side of the room, threw the penknife into his trunk angrily, slammed the lid shut with more force than was neccessary, and climbed into his bed, pulling the green curtains shut with one loud swish.  
  
Lucius blinked. What was that all about?  
  
For a moment he stared at the closed curtains, cutting him off from his (as he thought) new friend. He whipped his feet off his bed and made across the cold, stone floor until he arrived at Severus' bed, where he angrily yanked the curtains open.  
  
Severus was sitting on his knees, his eyes already perfectly level with Lucius' own, as if he knew the blond was coming over.  
  
"What was that all about?" Lucius demanded, his brows pulled tightly together. Severus glared, and Lucius acknowledged that no eleven year old boy had any right to look so frightening. "Well??"  
  
Severus stared back, not moving or speaking, and blinking less often than a cat. But Malfoys do not back down, and Lucius could stand there until the other boy fell asleep.  
  
Ten minutes passed, and all the other dormmates were climbing into bed, watching as the two tried to stare the other down. The smaller boy spoke first.  
  
"You do not trust me."  
  
A statement, not a question, but Lucius answered anyways. After all, Severus had not idea what he was saying. "I do so!" He protested, pale hands moving into fists on his hips. Severus glared back. Lucius calmed at the angry/hurt expression flickering across his shadowed face. "I do."  
  
For a moment they were back to not moving, until Severus darted for his trunk at the end of the bed and pulled out the tiny knife again. Lucius swallowed heavily, but said nothing. He had to prove that he did, infact, trust the other boy.  
  
Severus leaned forward, his hair curtaining parts of his face, and Lucius squeezed his eyes shut tightly. He felt the other boy's hands on his shoulders, then only one, then none. His eyes still shut, he heard a rustling of sheets and a small clank, but didn't move.  
  
A second later, he felt something press against his forehead. Not like a knife, but something soft. And Lucius smiled. Then the pressure was gone, and he opened his eyes. Severus was curling up under his covers.  
  
"Hey!" Lucius protested, "You didn't even *use* the knife!"  
  
Severus shrugged and yawned, turning away from the blond boy. Lucius scowled and trudged back to his bed, murmuring to himself. It wasn't until he was lying on his back that he realized what exactly Severus had done. Without even moving his hands he could feel the change in his clothing.  
  
His tag was gone, and his forehead was wet.  
  
R/R Please! There will be more, and it will get better as they get older, but they're sorta eleven right now... 


	2. Second Year

The Serpent's Tale: Year Two  
  
Lucius glanced at himself one last time in the mirror on his bedroom dresser before smiling and darting down the stairs. He had to look his best for the new year, though everyone knew a Malfoy *always* looks his best.  
  
His mother was standing by the fireplace, glancing at the grandfather clock, then at the flight of stairs, then back to the clock. Lucius was usually so punctual, it was rare that he would leave her waiting, especially when it was so important that he be *on time.*  
  
"You're going to miss the train!" She called up the stairs, but Lucius was already on his way down, his last minute items thrown into a bag and slung over his shoulder.  
  
"Now mum," he said with a half-smile, "have I *ever* missed the train??" His mother scowled. After all, he'd only been on the train once.  
  
But before they he knew it, Lucius had flooed himself to the train station and was watching as his mother dusted the ashes from his shoulder, mumbling, "I thought I told the elves to *clean* that blasted thing..."  
  
Lucius ignored her, however, and was busy scanning the crowd for any sign of Severus. He wasn't hard to spot (for he most definately stood out among faces) but he was also almost an entire head shorter than the rest of the people at the station, and Lucius couldn't possibly see over them all.  
  
He stood on his toes and craned his neck, but still no Severus. His mother eyed him strangely. "Looking for someone, Lucius??" She asked as Crabbe and Goyle, two of her 'friends' from her days in Hogwarts, took up Lucius' trunk and loaded it onto the train.  
  
Lucius shook his head. "No," he lied, "just trying to see if I can recognize any--" Then he saw him. Severus was pushing his trolly alongside a woman and a man, both of whom seemed to be ignoring him completely.  
  
"I gotta go, mum! Bye!" He said suddenly, and fled from her, giving her a peck on the cheek and a wave before darting off. Shoving his way through the crowd, he almost knocked over a new first year, and barely breathed an apology before coming to a stop mere feet from his friend. As it turns out, his mother was speaking to him, addressing him fondly and giving him reassurances that 'this year will be fun.' Severus was shaking his head as his father stared down at him. Lucius didn't think he looked too particularly friendly.  
  
"Severus!" He called, just as the woman had finished speaking, and all three heads spun in his direction. Waving slightly, he felt himself cower under the tall man's gaze. He was more than a little intimidating.  
  
Severus glared at him, and Lucius nearly fell over backwards. Weren't they friends?? But then the dark-clad boy's face softened, and he bid farewell to his parents. His mother knelt and gave him a kiss on the cheek, (which Lucius pointedly ignored,) but his father made no move to acknolwedge him. He was still staring at Lucius as if he was the devil, or some victim of a fascinating plague. . .  
  
As Severus pushed his trolley towards the train and Lucius' two henchmen, Crabbe and Goyle (the unfortunate offspring of his mother's friends,) picked up his things and pushed them into their compartment. Severus had yet to say anything to him at all.  
  
"So," Lucius started, as the train began to move, "how was youre summer??"  
  
"Why did you do that??" Severus asked sharply, his arms crossed across his chest and his entire body slumped, leaving his head to stare down blackly at the floor.  
  
"What??" Lucius asked, straightening. "I didn't *do* anything."  
  
"You came over to me."  
  
"I was looking for you; I found you. So I went to talk to you. I didn't know it was going to be a problem." He scowled. Of course Severus would find something wrong in a nice gesture. He found something wrong with *everything.*  
  
Severus said nothing, just continued to stare at the floor. The truth was, he didn't want Lucius meeting his father, and was secretly glad the young boy made no attempt to speak to the bitter old man. But he had seen the way his father *looked* at him. . .  
  
Lucius and his friend sat in silence for a moment, which dragged into minutes, and soon both boys were practically asleep and *definately* bored with their mutual silent treatments.  
  
"So," Lucius said, repeating what he began before, "wanna play Explaoding Snap??"  
  
For a second the boy didn't move, then he slowly looked up and nodded. Though it was hard to play a card game in a train car, they began trying new tests and spells until Severus thought of a levatating charm, and performed it to create a sort of invisable table. Lucius, though impressed by the spell, was none too surprised about it. After all, the small boy knew more spells and curses than he could probably use in a lifetime. Mostly curses.  
  
They played, charring each other when they lost and laughing softly between the two of them. Lucius liked it when it was just the two of them, because the other boy was so much more friendly and open when no one was around, as if he couldn't be himself if there were any more people present. He liked to believe it was him that brought out the inner-Snape, but he figured anyone who took a moment to sit alone with him would have the same affect.  
  
They played until they arrived at the castle, both their faces tinged with gray, as they scurried to slip into their robes before running to catch the carriages. Severus was much faster at running than Lucius, but he managed to keep up (he suspected the tiny boy slowed down slightly for him,) and made the last carriage to the castle.  
  
At least they wouldn't have to walk, even if they *were* stuck with that annoying Parkinson boy.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
One morning in early November, Lucius awoke after a nightmare where he was trying to outrun something, (what, he did not know,) and eventually got caught in a corner, but managed to drag himself into consciousness before the creature (or whatever it was) could catch him. He sat up, brushing strands of silvery-white hair from his sweaty face and catching his breath. He looked around, his vision blocked by the curtains on his four-poster, and sat silently, listening around the room. No one else seemed to be awake. This could be good or bad.  
  
The thing with Lucius was, his nightmares were more frightening than any other 12 year olds, because they were *real.* Not in the sense that something was really chasing him, but whenever he had that nightmare, it lead to someone or something he knew to die. He cringed. His cat, grandfather, and his Uncle on his mother's side had all fallen victim to his dreams. Of course, he never told anyone, for he knew they would dismiss it as a coincidence, so he kept it to himself and slowly crawled out of his bed. It was cold in the dungeons and he shivered as he stepped into his slippers at the foot of the bed. First things first-- Make sure Severus is alive.  
  
He made his way over to the boy, who was asleep and chewing on a lock of black hair. It was barely long enough to reach his mouth, and Lucius had already found three letters from the other boy's father, demanding that he get it cut as soon as humanly possible. Lucius stared, his eyes fixed on the boy's chest, which rose and fell slowly with each breath. At least he was alive, but now it was time to check everyone else. As he let out a breath he didn't even know he was holding, he made his way to the other beds.  
  
Goyle was alive, and so was Crabbe, whose silencing spell was broken the moment Lucius parted the curtains, and loud snoring filled the room. Parkinson growled in his sleep, which was a clear indication that he, too, was also alive. So far so good. He could think of someone else who might have been his next victim, but he pushed those thoughts away before they even fully formed. His mother was far too young and sweet to die.  
  
But the dread lingered as he showered and changed, then made his way to the Great Hall for breakfast. Watching as everyone entered after him, he checked them off in his mind. 'Quirrel: Still here. Morgendarle: Still alive. Potter: Still alive. Unfortunately.'  
  
Eventually everyone had filled the room, including each teacher, some of which Lucius knew only by their face, not their name. Maybe he curse was lifted. He'd just have to wait for the mail.  
  
'Speak of the devil,' he cursed inwardly as the owls swooped in through the overhead windows. He looked straight up as letters rained down on children's heads. Soon, he received a letter from his mother.  
  
Well, Lucius dear, I got my clearance to invite you home for Thanksgiving. I can't write much, but I would love to know if you would like to come. I don't want you spending another holiday alone.  
  
Your mother, Margarette  
  
Lucius smiled. He had never felt more relieved to get a piece of mail in his life. There she was, alive and well, and not a single death announcement in her letter. He looked over at Severus, still smiling, until he saw the boy next to him, his face a sickly shade of green.  
  
"Severus??" He asked, reaching out to touch his forehead, but the boy jerked away suddenly, and dashed from the hall.  
  
Lucius persued him. He only had to run for a little while, though the cold ripped at his throat and bruned his eyes, when he came close enough to Severus, who was standing in front of the lake, seemingly oblivious to his friend.  
  
"Severus??" He tried again, but the boy didn't budge, still clasping the letter between his fingers and his palm, staring out way past where his vision could reach. "What's the matter??"  
  
Again, the boy said nothing, but extended his arm sideways to Lucius, who took the note gently, not overlooking the boy's uncharacteristic shaking hand. Quickly, pale eyes scanned the words and his face fell, into an expression of hurt, anger, and sympathy.  
  
"Oh, Severus, I'm so sorry. I-" He stopped as the other boy took the letter back, his eyes still unfocused, and gently let it drop into the freezing water of the lake. They stood together, Severus' shoulders slumped sadly and awkwardly. Without thinking, Lucius flung his arms around the shorter boy from behind, his face pressed into the sorrowful boys' neck. "I'm so, so sorry." He repeated, with no lack of truthfullness.  
  
But Severus pushed him back.  
  
"Lucius, I-" He started, but his voice caught and he gave up, shaking his head so fast it nearly made him dizzy.  
  
"I understand," Lucius said softly, from a few feet behind him. To be honest, he didn't completely understand, but he knew the feeling of having a family member die, even if it wasn't his mother. But he did know he'd be devastated if his died. "I'll be in the dorm, if you need to talk??" He offered helpfully, before slipping away into the castle to leave the mourning boy in peace.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Lucius was pacing back and forth in the common room. He had left Severus out in the cold without a coat, to be all alone. He knew the boy treasured his privacy, and that leaving his was the right thing to do, but he *had* expected him to come back.  
  
For hours he waited in the dorm room, then moved to the common room, and had finally resorted to having dinner, after missing lunch and breakfast. Still, after coming back from eating, there had been no sign of the lonely boy.  
  
Continuing his pacing, he threw another quill into the fire. That was his last one. He'd had to send for more, but there were more pressing matter at the moment. He considered leaving to search for the other Slytherin boy, but was afraid of what might happen if he was gone when Severus came back, maybe wanting to talk. Not bloody likely.  
  
He stormed up the steps to the dormitory, demanding Parkinson leave under penalty of torture. Of course, he wasn't planning on hurting the boy, but he just might if he spent another minute worrying about his friend.  
  
Severus was not the kind of person who could be left for hours, depressed and cold, and would find his way back into the world unscathed. And frankly, Lucius was frightened for him.  
  
He settled down on Severus' bed, hugging a pillow close to him, which smelled strongly of school-issue shampoo and something else. Something distinctively Severus.  
  
He nearly dozed off, his face resting comfortably on the aforementioned pillow, when a creaking sound alerted him to someone's presence.  
  
"Severus??" He asked the darkness, hoping against hope that it was him. But he got no response. "Severus??" He prodded again, squinting into the dark room. Suddenly a figure was before him, outlined by the low green light of the lanterns, black eyes shining. The rest of the boys' face was hidden by shadows, but Lucius knew who it was. "Severus!" He yelled, leaping forward on the bed to make sure he wasn't seeing things. "I'm so glad you're okay." He paused when the boy didn't move. "*Are* you okay??" He asked, more solemn when he remembered the boy's current state.  
  
The silence was deafening, and seemed to linger long before Severus answered.  
  
"I could not do it."  
  
Lucius almost frowned, but refrained. "Couldn't do what??"  
  
Severus looked at him again, then cast him eyes downwards. He was still, then his body began to shake violently. Lucius' eyes grew wide.  
  
"Severus! What is it??"  
  
It took a few seconds, then the eyes came back up, though not connecting with the blond's. "I am not crying." Though his words were powerful, (and Lucius would normally have no doubt they could be true) his actions conveyed a different message. As if just speaking the words had made everything real, his eyes began to leak unshed tears, and his body was wracked with sobs.  
  
Lucius leaned forward again, taking the boy by the shoulders and lowering him onto the boy. Severus, in no mood or shape to protest, let himself be led and curled unconsciously into Lucius' lap, though he grunted in the back of his throat, trying to keep the other boy at a distance. It did not do well to let people get too close. A Snape doesn't cry, as his father had always said, and crying in front of another person is cowardly, dishonorable, and just *wrong.* He fought the other boy's grasp, though it did him no good, as he sank into his pit of sorrow.  
  
"I'm sorry, Severus." Lucius said again, hoping his words meant *something* to the hurt boy. "I'm very sorry." He pet his head, allowing the smaller boy to cling to his robes and cry on his shoulder. No harm done, and the lithe frame in his lap was not at all unpleasant. He wrapped his arms around the boys shuddering shoulders and rocked him as he cried, muttering phrases Lucius could never understand, and slowly drifting off to sleep.  
  
One thing Lucius did understand, however, was a sentence Severus repeated a hundred times before his words had turned into hiccups and coughs. "I did love her, I did." Lucius stroked his hair, finding his words less-than- consoling to the other. Everytime he said it, it was in pain and earnest, and Lucius found it very endearing. Obviously Severus was very attatched to his mother.  
  
"At least you've got your father," Lucius supplied in what he hoped was an ecouraging voice, though it had the opposite of the desired affect. Severus flinched.  
  
Deciding to silence all words, Lucius held Severus until he fell asleep, then tucked him in and climbed into his own bed, sitting up to threaten anyone if they woke him up.  
  
  
  
  
  
A/N: Still not much in the *cough* "Good Stuff" department, but I'm getting there. They're getting there as well. I just don't see Severus as the sort of guy who warms up to people easily. 


	3. Third Year

The Serpent's Tale: Year Three  
  
Lucius Malfoy sat across the library table, staring intently at the top of his friend's black head, which was hunched over a book and piece of parchment. The boy was scribbling fiercely, his quill scratching noisily as it glided over the paper. He stopped suddenly, finally aware of the eyes fixated on him. Slowly, he raised his own black eyes to meet those of a startling blue. Saying nothing, he cocked his eyebrows in question.  
  
Lucius knew the boy's expressions well. Since his mother had died, Severus had fallen into the habit of not forming complete sentences, answering questions with single words and body language. It didn't take long to read Severus' silent wondering-- 'Why are you staring at me?'  
  
Of course, Lucius never was very good at answering the black haired boy, and simply shrugged.  
  
"I *told* you not to wait until the last minute, didn't I?? Now you're stuck slaving over a Transfigurations essay all night, when you *could* be out doing something."  
  
Severus' eyes narrowed. What Lucius said was true, as it most often was, and he sighed. If it were a Potions essay, Severus could complete ten rolls of parchment at the breakfast table in fifteen minutes, but his Transfiguration fell into a new category altogether. 'Bad.'  
  
"Are you almost done, at least?" Lucius pried again, distractly Severus from his writing. He paused for a moment, his quill sitting still on the parchment, and then began scribbling again. He needed one more inch, and he would be done.  
  
Lucius watched as Severus scanned a page in his thick text book, chewed on his lip thoughtfully, and then proceeded to write the remaining two lines. Ending with an elegant 'Finis,' he sighed his name and rolled up the scroll. As he tied the string using his teeth and his thin fingers, Lucius put the remaining books back onto their respective shelves.  
  
"Done," Severus said, as he stuffed his things into his bag and slung it over his bony shoulder. Lucius led him out the doors of the library and down into the Slytherin Common Room, where they dodged the many girls clamoring for Lucius' affection. Even at thirteen he was shockingly handsome.  
  
Lucius waved them off politely, never forgetting his Malfoy manners, which had been instilled in him since birth. He smiled, humoring a few girls with extra touches on their arms and backs before finally shuffling into the boy's dormitories. Severus was frowning, and Lucius knew why.  
  
Although he was constantly around the blond boy, Severus had yet to gain the affections, or even the notice of any of the Slytherin girls. Try as he might, Lucius could not persuade them to even take a second glance at the pale, lonely boy.  
  
Severus threw his things onto the bed and ran his fingers through his tangled hair. "I want a bath," he said suddenly, interrupting Lucius' attempt to console him about his women troubles. Lucius gasped, his breath catching in his throat. He was pretty sure that was an entire sentence, and speaking one was something Severus had not done for over a year.  
  
"Wonderful!" Lucius exclaimed, throwing both their bath supplies onto the bed, his comb sticking itself into the other boy's raven colored hair. He tugged at it, but it was definately stuck; Lucius ignored it. "I'll go ask Avery if he knows the password. He's pretty dumb, I'm sure he'll hand it right over." The dark haired boy opened his mouth, whether to protest or to yelp in pain, Lucius did not know, for he darted from the room in instantly good spirits.  
  
Less than five minutes later, Lucius came trotting back into the dormitory, a sly grin plastered on his handsome face. "Got it," he said simply, dragging his friend by the arm. Though the other boy had grown significantly in height over the summer and was now eye-level with the blond Slytherin, his boy had not yet filled out and was lighter than most of the first years.  
  
They arrived at the Prefect's bathroom, glancing around only twice before Lucius muttered the password and they entered. The room was well-lit, and the mermaid in the portrait seemed to be out visiting a friend.  
  
Immediately Severus turned on a few hot water taps and some bubbles, filling the air with mixed scents that together smelled like honey.  
  
Lucius sighed when the tub was filled and slid out of his robes. He watched Severus as Severus watched him, and began slowly to remove his shoes. "Severus?" He asked, and the boy jerked. Lucius smiled and gestured to his own fallen robe. "It's alright," he said, his voice smooth and soothing, "we're both boys." He meant it as a joke, as he often did, for he and Severus shared the same bathroom and community showers. But somehow the Slytherin managed to blush gracefully, unbuttoning his own complicated clasp and letting the robes fall to the floor. Underneath he wore a thin shirt and some pressed slacks. Severus never wore jeans.  
  
Lucius, however, had taken a liking to the muggle jeans, and slowling undid the button. Severus shook his head as he removed his own shoes. Lucius noted (and not for the first time,) that Severus had removed his socks prior to coming to the bath, which was something he had done as long as Lucius had known him. It was odd, but when Lucius asked he had merely said, 'I don't like them to get all wet.'  
  
Lucius pulled his shirt over his head, musing his hair in the process, his jeans still lightly supported on his hips. The dark eyed Slytherin was wrapping a towel around his waist in a vain attempt at modesty before removing the rest of his garmets. While he was busy with himself, Lucius had slipped into the steamy water and thick, blue bubbles. When Severus turned back around, he tilted his head in question.  
  
"You know I'm not one to waste time on modesty," he said proudly, with a grin that exposed most of his straight, white teeth. Every boy in Slytherin knew that Lucius was not concerned with matters of "covering up," be it in the locker rooms or the showers. Severus curled his upper lip.  
  
"Exhibitionist," he growled, before lowering himself into the water, discarding his towel only when he was completely covered by the bubbles. Lucius smiled at the 'compliment.'  
  
"I like my body," he said with a shrug. "And it's not like I streak or anything. I bet you've never even seen the full monty, have you?" Severus snorted, popping a few unlucky bubbles. "See?" Lucius continued, "I may not cover up, but I don't attract attention to myself. *Then* I would be an exhibitionist."  
  
Severus rolled his eyes and ducked under the water, wetting his black hair. Lucius followed suit a minute later, the feathery white strands sticking to his face. Severus was concerning himself with the matters of shampoo, and Lucius took the opportunity to survey the young man in front of him. His back, thin and bony and yet not sickly, was curved over the side of the tub. His neck was completely exposed, his hair having been hacked off by his father when the boy had returned home for his mother's funeral. It was growing back nicely.  
  
Severus settled back into the water, a golden bottle chosen, and as he poured the semi-solid liquid into his hand; Lucius stopped him. "Oh no Severus," he said, wading over to said boy. "That's for dry hair. You want something for hair that is more--" He trailed off. There was really no good word for what Severus' hair was. It just, *was.*  
  
"Greasy?" Severus snarled, his glare shooting daggers at Lucius. The blond flinched, but didn't back down.  
  
"Well, not dry at least. You see, Parkinson has dry hair. Your hair isn't crackly like his." He tried to smile, but his friend was having none of it.  
  
"And I suppose Lucius Malfoy's hair is just perfect," he grumbled, selecting a bottle 'for oily hair.' "Is *this* better?" He thrust the bottle into Lucius' chest, but he didn't even glance at it.  
  
"I was only trying to help; don't get mad at me." Lucius pouted, backing away. He chewed on his own bottom lip, a habit he had acquired from Severus, and stared back. "I was only trying to help."  
  
Severus glared. "Yes, well, we cannot all be as beautiful as Lucius, so do not bother." Now the blond scowled.  
  
"Back off, alright? I *said* I was only trying to help. I didn't want you to get angry with me. Next time I'll just let you use the wrong stuff."  
  
"It cannot possibly make me any uglier."  
  
"Stop that right now, Severus Snape! If you want to make your hair all nasty, be my guest. I just wanted to-"  
  
"Make me as attractive as you, so some of the girls will pay attention to me and you do not have to pity your poor, greasy haired friend!" Severus shouted, his cheeks burning red.  
  
"Oh, *enough!* I'm not trying to make you as attractive as I am!"  
  
"Ugh!" Severus crossed his arms tightly over his scrawny chest, his eyes narrow slits as he glowered. Lucius had never seen him so angry.  
  
"Dammit, Severus! You don't have to be so defensive all the time!" The other boy didn't even move, which only served to irritate Lucius farther. "Alright, *fine!* I won't try to help you anymore! Just don't get mad at *me,* alright!? It's not *my* fault you're ugly!"  
  
He regretted the words as soon as they left his lips. He didn't mean them, and he knew he didn't, he just often used people's looks against them. After all, his mother is a veela, and you don't get much more gorgeous than Lucius.  
  
Severus backed away, his eyes squeezed shut tightly. Oh, sure, people had called him ugly before: classmates, his uncle, his teachers, and even his father, but nobody who he thought really cared about him.  
  
Lucius reached out a hand, straining to touch the boy shying away from him. "Severus," he whispered, but the boy shook his head violently. "Severus," he repeated, feeling his eyes sting with the threat of tears. "I didn't mean that, and you know it. You're not ugly." Some of the salty water dripped down his face, falling across his lips and sliding off the tip of his nose as he continued to reach towards the cowering boy. "Please," he begged, though a Malfoy never begged. "Please, you're not ugly."  
  
"Not ugly indeed." Came the soft scowl from what seemed like miles away.  
  
"Not to me you're not. Now please, you know I didn't mean that. Please." It was odd to hear the word come from his own mouth, for he was not keen on saying the word 'please,' but he didn't care how disgraceful he looked, tears running down his read cheeks, his eyes pink from crying, and his hand stretched out, begging the other boy to come back to him, nor how he sounded, all pathetic and needy.  
  
Severus turned back to face him, his own eyes swollen and glistening. His face held a calculating look, as though determining just how sincere Lucius was being, and it took one glance at his face and a second in his eyes to see the honesty in the boy's words. He smiled. Not a smirk that was trademark of the Slytherin house, but a genuine smile.  
  
"'Tay," he said softly, his words clouded from his newly congested nose. Lucius' sky blue eyes lit up, a giant cloud having lifted from over his head. He smiled as well, and launched himself at the other boy, who received the wet hug with happy reluctance. The water swished between them, their wet bodies sliding until something jumped into Severus' mind.  
  
Did Lucius not realize they were both naked?  
  
He managed to struggle from the grasp of the handsome young man, then both of them smiled and retreated to their separate sides of the tub, where they finished bathing in companionable silence, until they decided it was late enough to return to the dorm.  
  
Lucius sighed as he wrapped his own towel around his admittedly attractive body. He turned quickly to face Severus, who had somehow managed to put on his robe already and was towel-drying his choppy, uneven hair. He father was either a horrible barber, or he had struggled as the man tried to cut it.  
  
Severus bent down to pick up his things and walked from the room, holding open the door for the blond Slytherin and coming up in pace beside him.  
  
"You know, Severus," Lucius tried as they approached the doorway to the common room. Severus said nothing, but nodded slightly to prove he was listening. It seemed he had fallen back into his silence. "You know, that was just a spur of the moment thing. I was just happy, you know, to have my friend back."  
  
Severus nodded the same way again to show he understood, but somehow it made Lucius sad. He wasn't *technically* lying. He hadn't anticipated groping his best friend during their bath.  
  
They were quiet again as they reached the dorm room, changed into their night clothes, and climbed under their sheet, curtains closed. Severus lay in bed, staring at the ceiling for what seemed like forever when he heard, or at least *thought* he heard the whisper of a voice saying, "I liked it, though."  
  
A/N: I am sorry this chapter took longer than it should have, but I had it all typed and ready to post when my disk messed up and deleted the file, so I had to retype it and everything. Sorry if there was not enough "action" in this one. I am wondering how old they should be when they finally do some stuff. I do not wish to make anyone flame me saying they are too young. Read and Respond, por favor! Merci! *I think that is spanish and french, but I am not entirely certain.* 


	4. Fourth Year (Yeah, we're getting there)

The Serpent's Tale: Year Four  
  
  
  
"So, have you ever kissed?" Lucius asked, rocking back and forth on his bed. All the boys glanced at one another, then back at Lucius.  
  
"Like, on the lips??" Patrick Parkinson asked, his face the perfect picture of confusion.  
  
"No," Lucius snorted, fixing Parkinson with a glare, "on the ass." The other boys sniggered amongst themselves, but Patrick got defensive. "Well of course I have, I *am* fifteen, after all."  
  
Lucius raised a perfectly formed eyebrow in quesstion.  
  
"Query?" He asked, the doubt shinning through his drawling voice. Parkinson shifted uncomfortably, hoping for another person to bail him out of this conversation. No one did.  
  
"Well, actually," he started, his voice changing pitches and beleying his lie, "it was that one girl, you know, her. But she kisses everyone, so I guess it's not such a big deal." The others eyed him sceptically.  
  
"I truthfully have no idea to whom you are referring, Parkinson. Care to give a name with that vague description?" Lucius prodded, feeling like he was poking an open wound. And really he was, by causing even further damage to the gaping wound in Patrick's pride. "Erm, you know. I forget her name. How about you, Severus?"  
  
This snapped the black haired boy out of his solitude, and he spun to face the beady-eyed boy. "What was that?" He asked, feeling embarrassed at his lack of attention span.  
  
"Have you ever kissed?"  
  
Severus glared at the boy, sniffed loudly, and got off the bed. Parkinson broke into fits of laughter. "I don't believe it! Fifteen years old and never been kissed! That's so pathetic, I'm sure even Gaven has gotten some action!" The other boy in question laughed stupidly, not seeing the comment as the insult it was intended to be. "Yeah," he agreed, his words slow and his voice deep.  
  
Severus scowled. So *what* if he didn't hit on every girl in the school? So *what* if, even if he *could* get any girl he wanted, he still wouldn't? He just wasn't that kind of guy. "Get stuffed," he mumbled, before flopping down on his own bed and burying his face into his pillow, which only seemed to provoke Parkinson further.  
  
"Haha!" He laughed, his voice grating on Severus' last nerve. "You're going to be a virgin forever! Hey, I bet that you've never even--"  
  
"SHUT UP!!"  
  
The boys all turned towards Severus' bed, having never heard his voice so loud before. As a matter of fact, that didn't sound like his voice at all... They turned back towards Lucius' bed, where the blond boy was glaring fiercely at them, his face twisted into an ugly scowl. Parkinson began to back towards the door.  
  
Slowly and without a sound, the remaining boys followed him out of the dormitory.  
  
"Severus?" Lucius asked at last, his voice scratchy from his unanticipated scream. He felt embarrassed to no end, and could feel the tinge of pink creeping up onto his pale, perfect cheeks. All he got in response was a grunt.  
  
"I'm sorry about all that. I shouldn't've even started that conversation, but I just didn't know that you'd never been kissed."  
  
"I never said that."  
  
Again, Lucius found himself lifting a silver eyebrow, but he also felt something else. A twinge, somewhere in his stomach that made him feel empty. He figured he was hungry, and shrugged it off. "Then do tell," he responded, making himself at home beside Severus' socked feet.  
  
"There is not anything to tell."  
  
"Well," Lucius resonded, moving to lay next to the other boy, whose face was still half stuffed under his pillow, "there must be something to tell, or else you would never have brought it up." He heard Severus sigh, and barely made out the words, "There is not."  
  
"C'mon now, Sev," Lucius cajoled, pressing his index fingers into the small of Severus' thin back, "this is news. Best friends don't keep secrets from one another."  
  
There was a silence for a moment before the darker boy took in a deep breath and mumbled, "Are we?" Lucius scrunched up his face. "Talk sense, boy." Severus barely chuckled, but he did, and it made Lucius feel good. All his laughs, no matter how small, were music to anyones ears. Anyone who would listen, that is.  
  
"Best friends," Severus cleared up for him, and Lucius felt his back suddenly stiffen.  
  
"Well of course, you fool. You don't think I'd send away all my other friends to be with you, if you weren't more important than all of them, do you?" Severus turned to face him for just a moment, before quickly snuggling back into his blankets.  
  
"It is not news," He said flatly, taking in small bits of cloth with every word. Lucius snorted.  
  
"It is to me," he pouted, feeling distictly put-out, and that stomach feeling was coming back.  
  
"It was stupid," Severus moaned into the pillow, feeling the contact from Lucius' fingers back on his shoulders. "And definately not worth mentioning."  
  
Lucius pouted again, this time laying his face right next to the other boy's, so that he could see his wide eyes and stuck-out lip. "Just tell me? And I'll tell you." At these words, Severus sat straight up.  
  
"Would have you kissed?" He demanded, and his voice sounded a mixture between anger and hurt, a mirror of Lucius' own. He couldn't blame the dark-haired Slytherin for being upset, no matter how much he wanted to. Friends don't keep secrets like that from friends, but at least now they were even.  
  
"You first, Sev."  
  
"Ashley, now tell."  
  
Lucius chewed on his tongue in concentration. As far as he knew, there wasn't an Ashley in the entire school. "What house is she in?"  
  
"I asked you a question."  
  
"So did I. What house is she in?"  
  
"She is not in a house." Severus breathed, his eyes gleaming with anger. "Now who did you kiss?"  
  
Lucius laughed, and had to clutch the front of his friend's robes to keep himself from sliding off the mattress. "Is she a muggle?" He asked, trying to gain control of himself. He watched his friends face, his mouth making a funny frown and his cheeks reddening.  
  
"No," he hissed, prying Lucius' thin fingers from his crinkled robe. "And I would thank you never to speak of it again."  
  
"Why not? You didn't like it?"  
  
"Do not speak *to* me, ever again."  
  
At this, Lucius' breath caught in his chest, and he thought he was dieing. "Wha. . ?" He managed, slipping off and onto the stone floor, but ignoring his injured body. "Wha--Sev--Wha. . Why not?" The words were mere whispers, but he was sure he had heard them.  
  
"If you are going to laugh at me-"  
  
"I wasn't laughing at you!" He insisted, picking himself off the floor and shoving his face into Severus'. "I was laughing because you looked so mad at me."  
  
"I am."  
  
"I wasn't laughing!"  
  
"Not about that!" Severus half-yelled, his voice more of a dangerous quiet than an angry rant. Lucius stared at him, his eyed crossed from being so close, and burst into laughter again.  
  
"I didn't mean to make you angry, for making you tell me." He started holding on to the boy's shoudlers as he tried to push him away, his stomach sore from all the giggles. "It's just that I couldn't tell you who I've kissed, because I never have before."  
  
The last words sobered him up, and the hands trying to hard to shove him fell down limply onto Lucius' thin hips.  
  
"You lied to me?"  
  
"Yes. I had to. I had to know who you kissed, but hadn't told me about." He knew he sounded stupid, but he didn't care. Severus growled, his fingers digging lightly into the skin of the blond's waist. "I did not tell you," he began, his eyes glittering with an angry light, "because it happened when I was six, and Ashley-" He stopped, and Lucius urged him onward. "Ashley was a boy who thought I was a girl."  
  
Lucius stared, finding the face in front of him red from blushing, and was surprised to find his tinged pink as well. Never had he, or any Malfoy, blushed so much in one day. "Er, sorry, Sev. I didn't know that." The boy being addressed said nothing, just shrugged.  
  
Finally, he let his hands drop and looked down at the mattress, feeling silly and ashamed. "That is why," he whispered to his bed, "my father will no longer allow my hair longer than this." He motioned his hand vaguely in the direction of his hair, which had been cropped in a fashion which suited his face perfectly. But in reality, it just wasn't Severus' style.  
  
As sure as the sun that rises everyday, Lucius began to let thoughts of kissing seep to the back of his mind, and whapped his friend on the arm. "Well then, dinner?" He asked, already moving to pull on his shoes. Severus blinked, surprised but grateful at the abrupt change in conversation.  
  
Yes, Lucius is a good friend.  
  
***********************  
  
Severus awoke on a warm March morning to find that Lucius was already gone. It was not like the other Slytherin to wake up before him, and he immediately went about to investigate. He checked the showers, (where he made a pit-stop to use one) and then the Great Hall. Really, there wasn't much else to do at 6 in the morning, so he ventured to the library to wait for it to open.  
  
Madam Pince showed up less than five minutes after Severus had sat down, and looked at him through her thick spectacles. She was young yet, but her hair was already graying and she reminded him of the very personification of the Librarians people wrote about in books.  
  
"Wanted a head start?" He asked him sarcastically as she opened the large doors. She was not fond of Slytherins, and the fact that one would want to learn something good and useful seemed utterly ridiculous to her. Severus stared for a moment, then shrugged and trudged away from her.  
  
"Stupid," he murmured to himself as he treaded down the vast amounts of hallways, until he approached the hospital wing. He heard Dr. Thatch speaking to someone, then his assistant Madam Pompey or some such thing, and then a voice he would recognize even if he were deaf. Lucius was in the hospital wing.  
  
He stepped in, careful to open the door slowly to avoid the heavy creaking sound, and found his blond companion sitting on a bed with his robes off, and his pants the only clothing to speak of.  
  
"All he needs is some best rest," Dr. Thatch was explaining to his young apprentice, "so he could always go back to his dorm room. Boys sleep better in there own beds." The young woman nodded and nibbled the top of her quill. "Is he contagious?" She asked, and received a very sharp glance from the man in front of her.  
  
"No," he said firmly, and Severus heard Lucius' sigh of relief. "*He* is not contagious. People are not contagious, their diseases are." Again, Lucius made a sound that seemed distinctively like a whimper. "But no," the doctor reassured with a smile presenting all his teeth, "your sickness is not contagious either. We have it contained."  
  
Severus smiled at the blond, who caught a glimpse of him and smiled weakly back. 'What's wrong?' Severus mouthed, and Lucius sighed audibly. 'I'm sick.' He mimed, pointing to himself and then pretending to be dead.  
  
"You can go back to your dorm room," Dr. Thatch continued, noticing Snape out of the corner of his eyes, "and you had better get some sleep, or you won't be playing in the next Quidditch match." Lucius blanched, but nodded.  
  
The shorter Slytherin (Severus had taken to pointing out his sudden lack of height by teasing and towering over the silver-haired boy) gathered up his robes and slipped them over his head, grabbing on to the lady to steady himself.  
  
Severus helped him back to their common room, and then their dorm room, until finally settling him into bed. Upon closer inspection as he poured the boy a glass of water, he noticed the circles around his eyes and the lack of color and lustre of his lips. He sat beside him on the bed, eager to comfort after what Lucius had done for him, and let him have the water to sip.  
  
"What do you have?" He asked, and the short boy silently begged that he would not shy away from him.  
  
"Pneumonia," he responded, coughing into what water remained in the glass. "You know, from that--" he coughed again, more violently this time, and his voice held a slight rattle to it after that, and every time he breathed. He cleared his throat roughly and finished weakly, "That practice in the rain."  
  
"I told you to dry off."  
  
"I know," Lucius pouted, burrowing even further into the sheets, so far that Severus could no longer see his face. Or any of his body, for that matter. "And I learned my lesson," came the pathetic whisper from the quivering mass under the blankets.  
  
Severus chuckled slightly, rubbing his hands over Lucius' sides and conjuring up a cauldron. "You got the medicine they gave you?" He asked the bed, and the lump nodded its head. "I will put it on my bedside table, and wake you up to give it to you. Is that alright?" Again, another nod, and Severus sat the cauldron down by the head of the bed, so Lucius could use it--if he had to.  
  
He moved to place the vial on his table, then waited until he could hear the whistling sounds from his sick friend that proved he was asleep. Leaving for breakfast, he heard a sniffle and a groan, but continued on his way.  
  
  
  
Later that afternoon when Severus returned to the dorms, Lucius was sitting up in bed, tugging at the strings of the pillow. He looked like hell, but an improvement nontheless. "I feel like shit," Lucius grumbled, wipping on his already red nose with a tissue. "Don't give me my medicine; I want to die." Severus merely grunted and poured out a spoonful of the yellow liquid.  
  
"Let me die," Lucius pleaded again, his words losing their affect when said through the congested nose of a sick boy, curled up and shivering. However, he had shown a moment of weakness, and Severus had mercilessly shoved the spoon into the unsuspecting mouth. Lucius gagged, but regained himself.  
  
Severus leaned over the boy, putting his hand to the others forehead and letting his fingers run through the damp white hair. He was hot and clammy, but was shivering like he was out in the snow. "Lucius," he whispered to the whimpering boy, who coughed in response. "Cold?"  
  
Lucius nodded then stopped, his head spinning from the effort.  
  
Slowly and carefully, Severus climbed into bed and put his arm around his best friend. "I never get sick," he gloated, smiling slightly at the glare he got in response. Lucius half-heartedly punched him in the ribs, then snuggled close.  
  
Severus could feel his hot head through his thin shirt, and wondered vaguely is Lucius could die of such hight temperatures. He figured not, and let the small boy curl around him like a creeping vine.  
  
Within minutes, he was completely secured and stuck on the bed while Lucius slept, his nose whistling with his breath and his hands grasping anything near them. (A few times Severus had batted him away from his hair and clothing; and other such places.) Lucius had a firm grasp on the sick boy, who was more than willing to comply to his friends wishes. After all, he had been the only one to comfort him when his mother had passed, and he also knew that Lucius was too proud to accept help from anyone else. Even when he needed it.  
  
Severus sighed and wrapped his long arms around the boy, who sighed in contentment. He watched as the angelic boy slept, his hair was wet and his face was warm and flushed, but he still managed to look composed. Besides the bit of red on the tip of his nose.  
  
It was hours until Severus woke up again, having not even realized he had dozed off. It was 3 in the morning, his watch said, and Lucius was still in his arms. Seeing nothing else to do, he checked the blonds temperature with his hand (Nearly back to normal) and tested his own feet, which had become numb from the body which had planted itself firmly against his hips. Lucius' head was right below the dark-haired boy's collar bone, and he could feel the breath on his chest. Severus shifted slightly to release some of the heat trapped between their bodies, but stilled himself in an instant.  
  
His hips had rubbed against those of his friend, and it had caused some unnecessary friction in some unwanted areas. He decided not to move any further, and held his breath as Lucius adjusted himself against the new positioning.  
  
  
  
Lucius awoke, unaware of anything except the warmth he felt on the very top of his head. 'Great, I'm still sick,' he grumbled to himself, but then his eyes flashed open. He may still have a fever, but he could breath just fine now!  
  
Suddenly he became familiar with his surroundings: the bundled up sheets, his friend's arms around his shoulders, the breathing coming from right behind him, but something didn't feel right. He looked at Severus, who was still sleeping contently, and then back down at their intertwined bodies. With a surge of embarrassment, he realized that he had been clinging to the other boy, who was helplessly sprawled underneath him. Slowly shifting his body away, he felt parts of their skin and clothing rub together, and his stomach began to feel upset. Thinking he neaded to throw up, he pushed himself to the head of the bed, but nothing came. The tingling in his belly was gone.  
  
Slowly, he lowered himself down, and felt himself straddling Severus' thin hips. Out of nowhere, the tingling came back. 'Oh no,' Lucius realized in horror, 'I don't-'  
  
"Lucius?" Came a sleepy voice from in front of him, and he forgot about himself for a moment. "Better?" He asked, his words slurred but understandable.  
  
"Yes," Lucius breathed, carefully extracting his body from off his friend's own. "I'm going to go use the showers."  
  
"You sure?" Severus asked, rubbing his eyes and staring curiously. "Yes," Lucius responded firmly. "Yes, I am. I have to."  
  
"Alright," Severus replied slowly, getting off the bed and stretching. "I need one too."  
  
Lucius smiled and leaned into his wardrobe. Severus did the same and they headed into separate shower stalls.  
  
"Oh yeah, Sev?" Lucius called over the sound of the water. There was steam coming from his friend's shower, but none from his own. "Hmm?" Came the drowned reply.  
  
Lucius rinsed his hair and grabbed for the bottle again, feeling glad for the cold water running down his formerly feverish body. "Thanks, and all. You know, for that."  
  
"You would have done it for me." It almost sounded like a question, though Lucius figured he had already known the answer to that.  
  
The blond sat, his silverish hair covered with white soap bubbles as he took some water into his dry mouth, and spat it out again. "Yes," he agreed, "Yes, I would."  
  
Severus smiled to himself, wondering if he was supposed to have heard the boy's words. Of course, he was nearly sure he was expected to miss the next:  
  
"I'd do anything for you."  
  
A/N: Yeah, that was...dumb? Yes? It was not so bad, but I have the WORST headache and someone is running a saw next door. So I couldn't concentrate. If I get a lot of bad reviews, I will edit it later, deal?? 'Tay! R/R, please. 


	5. Fifth Year

The Serpent's Tale: Year Five  
  
Lucius stared across the dinner table at his friend, who was looking past him at the Gryffindors, glaring. He sighed, nearly missing his mouth as he tried to eat some mashed potatoes. No one noticed Lucius staring, and if they did, no one asked about it. He watched Severus as he slowly lifted his juice to his mouth, still staring hatefully at the Marauders. They had been making up songs about him as of late, and it was starting to really grate on his nerves, and therefore on Lucius' as well.  
  
Lucius worked his mouth mechanically, chewing the full 24 times before swallowing, and then taking another bite. However, his thoughts were on everything except whatever he had just put into his body. Severus was the main thing. Lucius had comes to terms with himself that summer, while Severus was spending the night and he had watched the tall boy sleep. He would no longer deny to himself that Severus was the boy of both his affection and his desire.  
  
Slowly, he became aware that he was staring back, his face shaped into the perfect question: 'What?'  
  
His pale blue eyes darted across his friend's face, and he smiled, shaking his head. Severus shrugged, assuming Lucius would tell him later, (though he had no intention of doing so,) and let the blond go back to his broding about his feelings on the lithe framed, thin lipped, sallow skinned boy who had enchanted him so. Not that he would ever admit that out loud.  
  
--  
  
Lucius stared wide-eyed at the body on top of him, stretching so beautifully in the dim lamp light, his hair falling down over Lucius' own face and tickling his nose. He smiled, but could not managed any words, his breath coming in gasps as he struggled to see clearly.  
  
Severus was sweet, lightly tracing every part of his body with his tongue before kissing it thouroughly, leaving Lucius to whimper and sigh everytime he felt those lips, tinted red from their passionate kisses, leave and return to his body. His knees, one on either side of one of Lucius' thighs, were pressed down into the blankets on the bed, so that he was straddling one of the blond boy's legs. He stretched back down, and Lucius could feel rather than see him kissing the indent between his hip bones.  
  
Lucius cried out, wanting desperately to reach out and touch the beautiful body in front of him, on top of him, but he simply did not feel justified in doing so. People were not allowed to touch art in museums for the same reason: they were just too gorgeous to be tainted by the touch of someone unworthy.  
  
Lucius moaned under Severus' ministrations, and gripped his own white hair to keep from doing the same to Severus. He pulled, so hard he wouldn't have been surprised if his hands came away with locks of hair, and called out loudly, barely registering that his lover was speaking to him.  
  
He ignored it, hoping he had not missed much, but his head was spinning and he could not concentrate. But Severus repeated himself, a few times, until Lucius devoted all his thought to reading the word, 'Why?' off his lips.  
  
He couldn't help it, his throat was too busy sucking in breaths to speak, but he knew just what he was going to say, exactly what words he would use, if only he could.  
  
But the moment didn't last long, as Severus pulled away, leaning back on his feet with were nestled between Lucius' own legs. He sat, staring idly, until lowering his head. . .  
  
"Severus!" Lucius called out, surprised he had managed a word at all and quickly discovering that was the only word he could make any sense of. His breathy words encouraged the other boy, who seemed more expirienced than Lucius would have imagined, and he felt so close, he ached with need. With want. For Severus.  
  
But the boy pulled away once again, staring into Lucius eyes, begging him to say what Lucius so desperately wanted to say, but could not. Eventually, the black-haired boy sighed, and quickly brought Lucius to release. He waited for his friend to calm, and Lucius found he was shaking, before lowering himself once again to lick away any evidence of what had just happened.  
  
He sat back for a third time, and Lucius opened his eyes to watch him, sitting so casually it seemed as though he did that everyday. The thought alone made Lucius more sad that he would likely ever admit. "Sev," he breathed, feeling slightly ashamed at himself. Severus looked so composed and calm, sitting elegantly and neatly, while Lucius was still gasping, his body sprawled wantonly like a model in a dirty magazine.  
  
"Get up," Severus commanded, his face becoming hard. Lucius didn't move. "Get up," he repeated, this time a little more harshly. Lucius was confused. Weren't they going to at least sit together for a while?  
  
"Get *up*!"  
  
Lucius sat up suddenly, banging his head against that of Severus, who was staring at him intently. "Huh?" He coughed, noticing within a matter of seconds that he was still fully clothed, as was the boy in front of him.  
  
"You are *going* to make us *late,*" Severus stated in a didactic tone, motioning for Lucius to get out of bed by tugging on his arm with mirth. Lucius complied, peeling the sheets away from his weathered body and following the tall boy who was slinking over towards the bathroom.  
  
They entered the bathroom and proceeded to their different stalls, where Severus actually seemed to be encouraging Lucius' attempts at small talk, by prompting him with comments about Quidditch and girls, something they had come to do everyday whilst doing their daily bathing.  
  
Lucius turned off his stall and stepped out into the frigid air of the dungeons, lit pleasantly by small floating candles which illuminated the entire room. Moments later, Severus emerged wearing a white towel matching that of Lucius. They walked over to their respective mirrors, Lucius carefully towel-drying his hair and Severus flinging his about without mercy. The long black strands stuck out at all angles, and some stuck to his face.  
  
"And then?" He prompted Lucius as they began to brush their teeth. Lucius spoke through a mouthful of toothpaste, and even though he wasn't sure if Severus understood or not, he nodded and scowled at all the right moments. At last, he spat and turned to face his blond counterpart.  
  
"Yes," he hissed, his lips still covered in the white foam, "I hate them as well."  
  
They were speaking of the Marauders, a gang of idiotic Gryffindors who got their kicks by picking on Severus. Lucius couldn't count the amount of times he had stood up for his best friend, nor could he manage to keep a smile off his face when he recalled all the punches he had landed on Black before a Professor could separate them. Lucius smiled, washing his hands under the sink while biting the bristles of his toothbrush. He looked over to make a comment to Severus, but the words died on his lips.  
  
He was not sure if his friend was aware of it or not, but the towel he had wrapped around his waist had slipped significantly, and was currently barely hanging on his narrow hips. His bit his lip, watching as the dark-haired boy cleaned his nails, oblivious to the gazing eyes fixed hungrily on his exposed skin. Lucius feared (or tried to convince himself that he feared,) that if he moved his legs or his feet (or any part of his body, for that matter,) the towel would come completely undone and fall to the floor.  
  
"Er," He gurgled in an uncharacteristic show of lack of class, and washed out his mouth, then proceeded to floss in the mirror, forcing his eyes to stay focused on the pearls he was flossing between. But lo, Severus had noticed his stare and was looking rather uncomfortable, though he had made no attempt to raise or tighten the towel.  
  
He scanned the mirror, looking for any sign of what Lucius was looking at that he had to look away so suddenly. He was used to people rejecting his face as well as his body, but did Lucius *really* need to look *so* disgusted?  
  
He blushed, moving further away from the horrified boy and towards the sink. "Sorry," he murmured, staring down sadly at his reflection in the mirror and scowling because his hair managed to look greasy not even *five* minutes after he'd washed it.  
  
Lucius looked over suddenly, his brow furrowed. "Why? What for?" Severus shrugged half-heartedly, his shoulders making a semi-circle before falling back into a slump. "Did the Gryffindors write on my back again?" He asked, a thought suddenly occuring to him. Lucius moved behind him to check. Last year, Lucius had been out ill during History of Magic class, and Severus had fallen asleep, only to awake with the Marauders' signatures all over his back.  
  
"Nope," Lucius said cheerily, picking up a comb and running it through his silver locks. Severus shrugged again, glad that his friend was no longer shying away from him. He picked up his own brush, one with such thin bristles that they hardly did a thing anyways, and proceeded to run it through his dark hair.  
  
'If my father saw me like this, he would kill me,' he thought wryly, noting that his hair had reached its all-time longest, (since his childhood, that is) a centimeter past his jaw. The brushing had a feathering affect on his hair and he smoothed it out with his fingers, following Lucius from the bathroom and into the dormitory.  
  
He wandered over to his wardrobe when he swung the door wide open to reveal--  
  
nothing.  
  
He blinked. Surely his clothes were not all gone, but there they were. Gone.  
  
Lucius turned at the same moment, peering into Severus' wardrobe, and then consecutively into his trunk. "I got nothing," he said, scratching his head. "Think this is a prank?"  
  
Severus growled and tugged at his hair. "Yes, and I think I know who is responsible." He paused for a moment, raking through the drawers of his other dormates to reveal nothing. Only underwear. "Perfect," he mumbled, sitting on Lucius' bed. "I am not parading around all day, clad in only a towel and socks." Lucius agreed half-heartedly, then noticed a package on his bed.  
  
Tearing it open, he revealed a vest with no closuer buttons and a pair of pants, both a shade of retina burning red. The trim was a gold, as were the matching shoes. Gryffindor colours.  
  
He snarled at the garmets, but put them on, preferring them to a thin towel. Severus eyed the package on his own bed, but dismissed it as if it weren't there.  
  
"Well then," Lucius encouraged, trying to pat down the puff at the bottom of each pant leg, "put it on."  
  
"I most certainly will *not.*"  
  
"Well you can't go around naked, now can you?" He said, ripping apart the paper that held the package together. Severus crossed his arms defiantly, but it took only a minute of finagling to convince him to put his on. (His own was a shade of blue with silver trim, and Lucius had remarked that he at least got *one* of their house colours.)  
  
"Ooh, looking good," came a smooth voice from the corner, and Severus shot it a look. "You know, with the way things are going right now, I think I would *enjoy* seven years of bad luck." The mirror hushed itself, though both boys could swear they heard it stifling a laugh.  
  
They made their way down to the Great Hall, and Severus continued to cross his arms and tug his vest closed, convinced that his body looked horrible. "Now remember," Lucius said, fighting back the urge to do the same, those his body was very well toned, albeit thin, "pretend that it doesn't bother you, and it won't be as much fun to them. They're *trying* to get a rise out of you." Severus snorted, but stayed quiet as the walked through the doors, and were greeted with-  
  
Silence. Slowly, all the previous noise had died from the air, as heads turned in thier direction to stare. Some had their mouths hanging open, other had food halfway to their lips, while other still had abandoned any and all activity to gawk at the two boys. Despite his best efforts, Severus felt his body burn in a full body blush.  
  
"Come *on,*" Lucius hissed through the corner of his mouth as he tugged on Severus' wrist, pulling him over to the Slytherin table, forcing a stoic look on his face.  
  
They sat next to each other, avoiding the questioning gazes, and eventually everyone went back to minding their own business. All except a few nosey Slytherins, and a group of Gryffindors who were laughing uncontrollably. "Um, Lucius?" Asked Priscilla Mander, (Patrick Parkinson's girlfriend; though you wouldn't know it by the way she hangs on Lucius) "What are you. . . wearing?"  
  
"It's all I had." He said calmly, pouring himself some pumpking juice. "Oh," he responded flatly as Narcissa, an attractive third year, shoved her aside and made a space for herself. "I think it looks good on you," she purred, reaching across the table to touch Lucius' arm. He mumbled a thanks and went back to eating. Beside him, Severus had his head so low it was nearly on his plate.  
  
The girls continued to flirt with him, commenting on just how manly he looked, and what a wonderful physique he had. Severus rolled his eyes, but none of the girls took any notice.  
  
"Lucius?" Priscilla asked at last, leaning so far across the table that you could see clear down her robes. "I was wondering, if maybe, the next time we go to Hogsmeade," at this she ran her fingers through his hair, "you might want to go with me?"  
  
Lucius coughed, pulling his head away from the wandering hand. "I, uh, I usually go with Severus."  
  
The girl scoffed. "I mean, go with *me.* You know, on a *date?*" Beside him, Severus twitched a muttered something under his breath. "Well aren't we huffy!" She exclaimed in an angry whisper, and then turned back to Lucius to bat her eyes at him.  
  
"I usually go with Severus," he said again, then caught his verbal mistake. "Don't you have a boyfriend?"  
  
"We're not going steady. And anyways, it'll be fun. If only I could just sit next to you," she glared fiercely at Severus, who glared back, "I'm sure I could convince you." She looked pointedly at Lucius, and then at his best friend as if to say, 'So tell him to leave.' But Severus didn't need telling. He shot Lucius a glare, pushed his plate the the opposite side of the table, and stormed around the the other side, while Priscilla pranced over to sit next to the object of her desire.  
  
"I really think you should stay with Patrick," Lucius tried, looking desperately at Severus, trying to convey his level of anguish and sorrow.  
  
"I don't like Patrick. I like you. What do I have to do to make you believe me?!" She screeched, and Patrick huffed loudly into his eggs.  
  
"Die," came a rough whisper from across the table, in a voice that could only have been Severus. "Hmph," she pouted, and tugged at Lucius' arm. "Just consider it, hun?" She begged, and Lucius claimed that he would, though his tone conveyed that he would most likely do no such thing.  
  
At this, Severus clicked his tongue loudly, looking anywhere but at Lucius, who was very obviously trying to catch his eye. Slowly, Severus drank from his goblet and began to eat some of his sausage. He stared blankly ahead of him, at the Gryffindors who were still laughing hysterically and gripping the table to keep themselves upset. He slipped into his own world, his only thoughts of potions and books, and slowly he let himself calm down. A Snape would never let the Marauders get to him, and neither would his stupid, blond, so-called friend and all his stupid, easy, trophy girls. What did they know anyways?  
  
Suddenly he felt something come sharply into contact with his shin, and glanced underneath the table. It was a mess under there, a tangle of legs all trying to wrap themselves around Lucius', and it was damn near impossible to figure who had kicked him, so he went back to his sausage. He glanced at it on his plate, and took note that it seemed almost fully intact, when he could have sworn he was eating it. Again, he picked it up and began to nibble on the end.  
  
At the opposite side of the table, Lucius was barely keeping up conversation with all his admirers, faking interest in their pointless arguments and feigning laughs as they told him pathetic jokes he had shared with Severus nearly a year ago. He felt a foot begin to slide up his thigh, and he moved away from it as though it burned. "Ladies, ladies," he said, his face beginning to flush, "Why don't we all just get back to our meals-"  
  
He dropped off without noticing it, staring straight at Severus, whose eyes were glazed over in thought. His mouth, his thin, pale lips, were over a piece of morning sausage as he at it, his tongue lashing out occassionally to lick some dripping syrup. "Ah," he gasped, sitting up straighter and crossing his legs, wishing he had his billowy Hogwarts robes right about now.  
  
"Well," said rather quickly, setting his napkin on the table top, "I guess I'd better be going-"  
  
"But we've still got ten minutes!" Priscilla whined, and Narcissa nodded in agreement.  
  
"Yes, well," Lucius nearly studdered, "I need to use the restroom. So if you'd excuse me," and with that, never once forgetting his manners, he stood up in one swift motion and darted towards the doors, disappearing in seconds.  
  
For a moment the girls sat in silence, some returning to focus their attention back on their boyfriends. Priscilla picked a piece of half-eaten bacon off Lucius' plate and stuffed it into her mouth. "What's with him?" She asked Severus, who stared back at her in astonishments, then shrugged.  
  
"A man can only last so long without air," he hissed, then picked up his books, ignoring the ones Lucius had left behind in his haste, and made his way to Charms. For some reason he couldn't quite identify, he was angry at Lucius as well as the girls doting on him.  
  
Lucius had sat on the counter in the bathroom for nearly an hour, willing his body so soften enough so that he could at least catch *half* of the day's lesson, but for reason it would not. Every time he thought of Severus and his breakfast, his stomach tightened and his entire body (*entire* body) went rigid again. He growled at his reflection, his eyes tinted with panic. What was he going to tell everyone when they asked where he'd gone?  
  
The bathroom door creaked open, and Lucius crossed his legs again, trying to ignore the protest his body made. Slowly a boy entered, Quirrel, if he recalled correctly, and stared at the boy on the counter.  
  
"You okay?" he asked, washing what looked like ink off his hands and forearms. It had stained all around the cuffs of the boy's robes.  
  
"Yes," Lucius grumbled, toying with his red vest. Quirrel looked back at him, his eyes wide as he took in the entire ensemble, shoes and all. "Embarrassed?" The boy asked, rubbing some crystals of soap into his already pink and black skin.  
  
"A little," Lucius admitted, though for more reasons than one. But as he talked to the boy, his hardness had waned slightly.  
  
"I would be too," Quirrel said with a shrug, "but I'd've stuck with my friend." Lucius raised one eyebrow, not daring to ask the child what he meant by that, but he told him anyway. "I mean, poor Severus has to suffer all alone now. You know how shy he is and everything." If the boy had been sent in to make Lucius feel horrible, he was doing an splendid job.  
  
"'ll be out in a minute," Lucius sighed, raking his fingers through his white locks of hair, "But right now I have a problem."  
  
Quirrel stared. "What kind of problem could you *possibly* have that causes you to hang out in the boy's bathroom all day?" Good question. "Snape is probably on the verge of hating you right now, and you know how he is." It was unnecessary to continue, but he did anyways, "I'm just saying, he can hold a grudge so tightly it could squeeze-"  
  
"Blood from a rock, I know," Lucius interrupted, his face that of anguish. "Can you ask him to come and see me, please?" Quirrel blinked, then nodded, drying his hands and slowly slipping from the bathroom.  
  
Severus grimaced as he was pulled from class, knowing *someone* wanted to leacture him about his new choice of garb. Not that it really *was* his choice.  
  
Quirrel lead him through the hall, and down a few stairways, where he ended up outside the bathroom. He sent a disapproving glare down at the boy.  
  
"Lucius is in there," he studdered, moving aside to allow Severus to pass, which he did with a grunt. He pushed through the door and stepped into the bathroom where Lucius was perched on the countertop, his hands looking to be folded in his lap.  
  
"Where the *Hell* have you been?!" He admonished before his friend had time to even look up. The blond boy gasped, startled, and quickly moved his hands down to his knees.  
  
"I," he began, but shook his head. "In here," he rasped, "I had a problem, but I fixed it." Severus scowled. "I had a problem too," he said, indicating his horrible attire, "but I did not go running off and leaving *you* alone! *And,*" he continued before the other had a chance to speak, "*I* did not abandon you so I could flirt with some girls! And *I*-"  
  
"I didn't abandon you!" Lucius shouted, slipping from the counter and down to stand in front of Severus. "It wasn't my fault they did that. I didn't ask them to be so clingy." Severus crossed his arms over his thin chest and tapped one foot angrily. "Why am I here?"  
  
Lucius shook his head, his white hair flying about his face. "I don't want to go to classes today; not dressed like this. Let's go back to the dorms and skip."  
  
Severus seemed to consider it for a moment, then slowly nodded, his eyed widening from their narrow slits and into the black almonds Lucius adored so much. He was still angry, that was clear in the way he stood, but they were fighting anymore and for now that was good enough for Lucius.  
  
They made their way to the dormitory, easily avoiding any ghosts who might rat them out to a Professor, (including Peeves, a new ghost at Hogwarts,) and finally ran down into their lantern-lit dungeon room. Both of them plopped on separate beds, and Lucius slipped off his shoes.  
  
"Is it just me," he said, watching as Severus removed his shoes as well, "or is it a lot less embarrassing in here?" It may have been just wishful thinking, but he could have sworn he saw a smile light across the Slytherin's face. "A little," Severus admitted as he slid down into his pillows. (He insisted upon having many pillows on his bed.)  
  
Courageously, Lucius made his way to Severus' bed and laid himself next to his friend, carefully not letting himself touch any of the other boy's body. Severus watched him, then raised a thin fingered hand and ran it through Lucius' hair.  
  
"I always wondered why the girls did that to you," Severus sighed, pulling his hand away from the soft strands. Lucius smiled and struggled to fight the twisting in his stomach.  
  
"Hair is hair," he said softly, unintentionally doing the same to his friend as he had done to him only moments before. "But yours is so nice," Severus insisted, red appearing on his cheeks. When had a Snape ever sounded so goofy?  
  
Lucius moved forward, safe in his assumption that he was the only person Severus would allow so close to himself. He propped himself up with his left hand, staring straight down at his friend. The black eyes staring back brought forth all the images from the dreams he had had before, all of which seemed so close now, yet so inaccessible. He leaned in, resting his forehead on his friend's, before whispering, "You don't look so bad, you know. In those." He meant it as a reassuring thing, gesturing towards Severus' blue pants. (The vest had fallen open and was hard to see, so Lucius had virtually forgotten it was even there.)  
  
Severus blushed, his red matching that of Lucius' own silly outfit. "I, erm, thanks?"  
  
The blond smiled, his nose squishing that of his companion and vice versa. "Your breath smells like sausage," Lucius whispered, and Severus narrowed his black eyes. A moment later, his had pulled his head away and Lucius regretted saying anything at all. Suddenly, the face came crashing back, slamming both their skulls together with a loud thunk.  
  
"Ow, geez!" Lucius exclaimed, putting both palms on his forehead and sinking into the dark haired boy's chest. "You have a hard head!" He moaned, rubbing furiously as he heard Severus laugh. It sent shivers up his partner's back. He grumbled a few choice words before he felt fingers tilting his head and came face to face once again with his most treasured companion. Moving slowly but firmly, Lucius pushed his own face forward and his pink lips met gently with the thin, pale ones of his best friend. Severus jerked back, leaving Lucius to feel so hollow and his stomach began churning in a most unpleasant way. But within a moment, he made to apologize and run away, but he felt arms grab him, and his mouth was covered in an onslaught of gentle kisses. Lucius melted into the embrace, moving his own hands to rest of the other's chest, and began leaning further into each kiss, waiting for the exact moment when he could find an opening for his tongue. The opportunity came, but just  
as he felt prepared to make his move, the door swung open on its rusted hinges.  
  
They sprang apart, Severus' left hand being the only thing that kept Lucius from falling, and stared wide-eyed at Patrick, who was panting hard. "Professor--McGonagall--wants you--" he gasped for more air, "in class--right--now." Both boys blinked, then nodded. "Hurry!" Parkinson ordered, turning on his heel and charging out the door.  
  
The two looked at each other, neither one saying anything as they straightened themselves up and began to head for class. "You know," Lucius whimpered, hoping Severus would still speak to him. But why wouldn't he? "You still have a *really* hard head.  
  
"I know, Lucius." Severus barely breathed, "I know."  
  
A/N: Not much to say? You like, or no? R/R, please. 


	6. Sixth Year

The Serpent's Tale: Year Six  
  
  
  
Lucius sat in Charms class with a frown on his face. Flitwick was out 'due to an unfortunate accident,' but the students were still required to attend class, to keep busy, if nothing else. They were practicing a bunch of old charms learned earlier in their lives, and Lucius was bored.  
  
Severus had taken to trying to invent a new charm, and was cursing softly and a stick he had brought in from outside. To be fair, he had carried in an armful of branches, but he was down to this last one after quite a few explosions.  
  
Lucius gritted his teeth, watching his friend struggle and fight with his own assignment, and consequently completely ignoring his own. "Lumos," he muttered, so that the substitute (Filch, who was stalking about the room insulting the students,) would at least think he was attempting the work.  
  
Severus snorted when his branch began to bend in his hand, and Lucius could not fight the smirk that spread across his handsome features. "Was that what was supposed to happen?" He laughed, not even angry that his voice sounded giggly. Severus shot him an angry look, but then smiled.  
  
"Almost," he confessed as pieces of the stick began to melt into droplets which dripped onto his desk.  
  
Lucius leaned closer to Severus, away from Pettigrew, who had just magicked a rock into bouncing everywhere, and smiled at him. "Nice work there, Severus," he said quietly in his ear. His friend merely snorted, but his eyes flashed with pride. "Perhaps you could melt one of the Gryffindor's wands, hmm?"  
  
This time his face turned up into a smile and he nodded. "I suppose I *could.*" Then Lucius heard some loud laughing behind him, and robes brushed past his back quickly. That was never a good sign when the Marauders were in the room. He pushed back his chair and spun around to reveal three tall boys holding a ridiculously large bottle of green ink, and a fourth boy cheering them on. He barely had enough time to look up before the ink came spilling down on top of Severus' head.  
  
Black cheered as Potter put the empty glass bottle under the desk, and Lupin was looking concerned as he rapidly jerked the other boys out of Lucius' reach. "That's going to come off, right?" The mousey-haired boy asked in a rough whisper to his comrades, who were giggling madly. "Right??"  
  
Lucius was torn between helping his friend (who had hardly moved at all,) and beating up the lousy jerks who did that in the first place. He looked at Severus and used his left hand to wipe back all the hair that had been washed to the front of his face. Crouching down, he put his head just above the other boy's lap and looked up into his friends eyes.  
  
Severus said nothing, just stared down at Lucius with sad eyes and then quickly turned away. Lucius felt the green droplets hit his hair and skin. When Lucius turned back to the table were the culprits sat, he saw Lupin furiously flipping through a book he had taken from Filch, trying to find an ink removal stain. Lucius was resolved: he'd kill him last.  
  
"You'll pay for that," he hissed, his fingers clenching into fists. He had punched each member of the Marauders at least once, (Lupin had been hit on accident, but he still counted it,) but he was currently so angry that they had hurt Severus, *his* Severus, that his mind was blank with fury and his eyes darkened a shade. Black straightened up from his hunched position and grunted.  
  
"Will I?"  
  
Before Lucius had a moment to think, he saw something white appear on the right side of his vision, and connected itself with Black's jaw, nearly sending him directly over the desk behind him. It took a moment to realize that the thing had been his own fist, and he swung again.  
  
Black panted loudly, trying to dodge the hands. Potter tried to save his friend, who had just suffered a bloody nose and a black eye, amongst other things. They fought for a moment, each landing a couple of shots, until both boys were spent and Lucius resolved himself to simply kicking Pettigrew.  
  
The class was silent as they watched Lucius beat the other boys, (though he had received maybe blows himself,) and Severus watched with almost shocked, rapt attention, feeling the ink dry to his skin. A moment later Filch finally decided to finally break up the fight, and he sentenced each student to a detention of cleaning the room. Looking pleased, he released Severus to the bathroom to "wash that crap off you."  
  
  
  
Severus sat under the taps in the prefect bathroom, scrubbing furiously at his hair. It was too black to notice any of the colour, but *he* knew it was there, and wanted it gone. WIth a sigh, he also noted that the dye on his skin had hardy faded, and there were lines of green running down his neck and shoulders, and much to his discomfort, some had dripped into his lap. He put so much yellow shampoo into his hair it drizzled down the sides of his head, and he doubted it would *ever* come out.  
  
The door to the bathroom swung open quickly, and Severus stiffened. "Snape?" came the voice from the door, and he shuddered. Turning around quickly, but ducking underneath the bubbles, he snapped at the boy in the doorway. "What the Hell do you want, Lupin?"  
  
Lupin seemed unfazed by the attempts to frighten him off and continued forward boldly. Severus growled and sunk down further in the water. "I am in the *bath,* you letch." Lupin tilted his head to the side and stared, and Severus felt his face grow warm. It was bad enough when Lucius saw him like this and he was his best friend!  
  
"You don't seem to mind when Malfoy's in here with you," he said quietly, his eyes glancing around the room, never once remaining on one thing for more then a moment. Severus coughed loudly. "*Malfoy* is my friend; something which you most certainly are *not.*" He was proud at himself for not revealing more than he intended, and used his fingers to manuever some more bubbles over himself.  
  
"Well anyway," Lupin said with a shrug, his eyes coming to rest of Severus' head, "I got a spell to help you clean that junk off, if you want it." He held out a piece of paper and handed it to Severus, who was backing away from the side of the tub. "Just cast it on a bar of soap, and you'll be fine." Snape quirked an eyebrow but said nothing. He wasn't about to *thank* him for fixing something he ruined in the first place, and he sure as hell wasn't going to show any doubts he had about the spell. (He wondered if maybe it would enchant the soap to burn away all his skin, but he had potions to cure that back in his dorm.) Lupin left, muttering something about not telling "the guys" that he had been there, but Severus ignored him. With his foot, he fished a new bar of soap out from under the bubbles, which had gone soggy. He dove under the water and retrieved the bar, but when he went to emerge from the water he felt something on his head.  
  
Memories flashed back into his mind, of his father when he was just a little boy, holding him under the water when he refused to take a bath, and he thrashed out against the pressure on the top of his skull. Managing to raise his head above the water in a fraction of a second, he heard a loud slap when his hand came into contact with what was definately skin. He yelled, his eyes blurry from the soap in the water, and grabbed on to the front of a piece of cloth.  
  
"Please!" He screamed and he felt hands taking his wrists, holding them still. Taking another deep breath, he prepared himself to be pushed under again, possibly longer this time, but the dunk never came.  
  
There was water in his lungs from when he had obviously cried out while still under the water, and he coughed harshly, the sound in his throat almost a wheeze. "Father," he coughed out, "please. . ."  
  
His voice sounded forgein to his ears, and he thought about how stupid he must seem. His father wasn't here, at school. His father was at home, when he belonged. . . But the images wouldn't leave his head, and slowly he became aware of his name being called.  
  
"Severus! Sev! You okay??" He blinked, his bloodshot eyes coming to focus on the most handsome face he had ever seen. "Sev?" Lucius asked again, wrapping his arms around Severus' thin frame and holding the wet boy close. "I didn't mean to scare you," he whispered into his ear, his fingers drawing circles on his naked back. Severus pulled himself slowly back into reality, holding on the boy's robes which were soaked through up to the chest. Glumly, he nodded and held the boy back.  
  
"What are you doing here, Lucius?" He asked in a soft tone, not trusting his voice to remain steady if he spoke any louder. Lucius snorted and buried his elegant face into the patch of Severu's skin at the shoulder.  
  
"I saw Lupin leaving, and had to know what he was doing here. He told me to sod off," he chuckled softly, and noted that Severus had too, "so I came in here to see if you got away from him unscathed, and found you with your head underwater." He squeezed him a little tighter. "I was scared," he shrugged slightly into the boy, "and whatever."  
  
Severus took a deep breath of Lucius' hair. "I dropped the soap." Lucius laughed.  
  
"You scared the death out of me," he moved back and Severus noted that the boy must have jumped into the water in his school robes, and it touched him very deeply. "I thought you were trying to drown me," Severus confessed, slowly becoming aware of his own nakedness.  
  
Lucius' eyes grew wide and he nearly asked why, but refrained. He had heard Severus' cries against his father, both just now and sometimes during the night, though he always pretended he had not. Fearing he might seek out Mr. Snape and beat him to within an inch of his life, (twice,) he pretended not to know of Severus' problems with his father. Severus, of course, had no quarrels with this. He did not like people getting into his business.  
  
"I would never do that," he said instead of what he really wanted to. He looked at Severus, very few bubbles stuck to choice places on his body, but the water was nearly bare. And Severus *was.*  
  
"Still green, I see," He joked, noting with pleasure the glare he shot him. "Want some help??" The other boy nodded, and retrived the piece of paper Lupin had given him.  
  
"I need the soap," he said, annunciating every word as if he were a very stupid child, "Try not to drown me."  
  
Lucius laughed and reached out to smack his friend, who thwarted his attempt by diving under the filmy water. He emerged, and with him he carried a bar of very soft, soggy soap. They performed the spell twice, watching as the colour switched from white to a pale pink, then back again.  
  
Severus handed Lucius the bar and a washcloth, and Lucius set to work on his back. As he had hoped, though not expected, the green washed away as easily as dirt, and soon his back was clear and the pale skin shone through. He moved around the other boy, washing his arms gently as Severus stared. He had not thought Lucius was going to wash anything but his back, but did not complain.  
  
He washed his neck and shoulders, his arms and his hands, down to every last crease in the skin. "That all, Sev?" He asked, using his pet name on purpose and staring stiffly at his friend. Severus nodded and took the soap, washing his own face with the warm water. "Thanks," he mumbled, and Lucius twisted the cloth in his hand.  
  
"I'm wet," he whined, and Severus grew pink. Lucius eyed him with curiosity before asking:  
  
"What?"  
  
"What do you mean??" Severus asked, turning away from him.  
  
"My robes are all wet, because of you."  
  
There were two ways he could have taken that statement, and though he knew very well which one Lucius meant, he wished it had been the other. "Then take them off," he hissed, and blushed again. Gods! He didn't even need to *try* to sound stupid. It just came naturally to some people.  
  
Lucius giggled a little to himself and removed the outer layers of his clothing. "Watch it, Sev." He said playfully as he shucked the sopping cloth to the ground by the tub, "Or else I might think you're coming on to me." Severus gave him a withering look and he quieted.  
  
"Speaking of which," he began, "I got us a double date with-"  
  
"Not interested."  
  
"You don't even know who it is yet!" Lucius protested, though he was secretly glad that his friend was so adamant about not dating anyone. Even if 'anyone' included himself.  
  
"Narcissa and Parkinson's girl," he grumbled, "I believe." And of course he was right.  
  
"Fine," Lucius pouted, "we won't go."  
  
"Good."  
  
"SEVERUS!!"  
  
"And I suppose I would be the one to watch whichever girl you were not fancying at the time?" He growled, "It is not a secret that you could have any girl you want. But why not have two?"  
  
"Oh honestly!" Lucius scowled, shoving his friend by the shoulder, "Why do you always have to pick fights with me? I was *trying* to get you a date!"  
  
"I do not *want* any *date,* Lucius," he snapped before pulling himself out of the tub shamelessly (though more from lack of thinking than immodesty,) and wrapping himself in a robe. "Good day!"  
  
***  
  
The more Severus thought about it, the angrier he became. It wasn't *his* fault he wasn't interested in any of the girls who offered to date him, as long as they got to hang on Lucius. He had gone out once on a "double- date" with his friend, only because he begged, and he hated every moment of it.  
  
Certainly, it was a 'double-date' for Lucius, and a tag-a-long game for Severus. He growled at the memory as he stomped around the outside yard in the dark. He hadn't gone to dinner that night, to avoid Lucius, and had not seen any teachers patrolling the halls tonight. He knew he was out past curfew, but was unconcerned. Suddenly he heard a noise, and stopped in his tracks. Turning to peer around the corner of the castle, he saw Black running towards that blasted tree that attacked people. Severus could only imagine why Dumbledore put it there in the first place.  
  
He considered warning Black that he was about to get smacked by a tree limb, but squashed the idea. He wouldn't do it for him, so why she he return an undone favor? Instead, he followed the overly confident (and stupid, Severus thought,) towards the killer tree. He watched from the shadows, desperate to avoid the intense light coming from the full moon. Crouching on his two legs and sitting on his feet, he saw Black grab a stick off the floor and jab at the tree. Severus resisted the urge to laugh at the sight of a dwarfed boy trying to beat up a willow.  
  
However, he appeared to have won when the branches froze in place. Severus moved closer for a better look, and cursed himself when Black turned around a looked right at him. He stayed motionless, hoping that Black couldn't sit his dimly lit figure, and when Black turned away again he let out a sigh of relief.  
  
"Wow," Black whistled as if thouroughly impressed, "James was right. You *can* make the Whomping Willow stop hitting." He paused and glanced back at the boy who was once again hidden by shadows, "Now I can go down to Hogsmeade, even when we're not allowed."  
  
Had Severus been thinking straight, he would have notice how unecessarily loud Black spoke, or the fact that he was spelling everything out for the young man. But of course he didn't, and listened hungrily for anymore.  
  
"So all I have to do is *prod the knothole* with this *long stick,* and I can creep through *the tunnel* and get into Hogsmeade! What a *great plan!* I just hope *Snape* doesn't find out, or else *he'll get us in *BIG trouble!*"  
  
Inside, Black was laughing hysterically as he walked away from the willow and back to the school. On the outside, though, he waited nearly until he got to the common room until he burst into fits of laughter.  
  
"What's got you so giddy??" Potter prodded from his seat on a table. He nudged Black's shoulder with his foot, and the other boy began to calm down.  
  
"Guess what I did?"  
  
Potter didn't need a second to guess. "Prank on Slytherin?" His friend nodded. "Snape in particular?"  
  
Again, Black nodded and doubled over in his chair. "Guess what I *did,* though." Potter gave him his rapt attention, silently urging him to continue.  
  
"Well I was going to visit Moony tonight," James gave him a whithering look, for he had promised they'd study this time, "And I saw Snape sneaking around. You know, trying to bust me for *something.* Well anyway, I had just showed him how to get into the Whomping Willow, so I figured he was going to try getting in himself anyways, so I *discreetly* gave him instructions as to how to stop the tree, *and* where the tree lead."  
  
During the entire explanation, Potter's eyes had become bigger than a house- elf's. "You told *Snape* that the Willow lead to Moony!? Sirius! How you could *do* that!?"  
  
Black shook his head and tried to calm his friend. "I told him it lead to Hogsmeade, and now he's probably on his way to find out just *where* in Hogsmeade. I only wish I was there to see the look on his face-"  
  
"Are you stupid!?" Potter yelled before dashing from the common room, and a bunch of the other students were watching them with more than just polite curiosity. Black was stunned. What had he done *now?*  
  
Lucius paced the length of the dormitory for the hundreth time that night, fretting about Severus. They *always* fought, that we true, and Lucius figured it would always be that way. But he didn't like to make his friend angry, and figured he should try to work out a way to stay off his bad side, once and for all. . .  
  
But that would probably never happen.  
  
Severus was amazed by how quickly he had gotten into the tunnel, and was currently stumbling around in the semi-darkness, lost in God only knew where, all because he decided to follow Black. Cursing himself, he trodded along until he came to a dead end. Well, not necessarily an *end,* for he was against a very sturdy looking wooden door. With a breath of relief and cheer of triumph, he pushed open the door and peered inside.  
  
It seemed like a very nasty, dirty house, and nothing more. He groaned inwardly, and was surprised when it sounded like a growl to his own ears. He held his breath, noticing that the growl seemed to come from some other place in the room, and he turned just in time to see two yellow eyes staring at him, and then the owner of those eyes come charging after him as though he were its prey. Which, Severus assumed he was.  
  
The eyes were upon him now, and he closed his own in an attempt to block out the picture of that gigantic wolf, all fur, sharp teeth and long claws, and felt himself being tugged and pushed and shoved and twisted about, until he was tossed down to a dirt floor, remarkably unscathed. His knees were sore where they had hit the ground twice during the encounter, but nothing else appeared to be hurt. He heard a loud slam and a howl, which seemed distant for an animal so close.  
  
Moments passed, which turned into minutes, which could have been years, for all Severus cared, before he risked opening his eyes. The first thing he saw was amber. Not yellow like the eyes of that demon, but a dark, rich, honey brown.  
  
"You alright, Snape?" Potter asked, breathing hard and finally leaning back against the wall. When Severus didn't answer, he continued. "For a second there, I thought he got you. Luckily, I know this tunnel by heart, so it was easy to catch-"  
  
"What the hell was that?" Severus whispered, barely remembering to breath. Potter stared at him for a minute before sinking back into a dirt wall. "That was Sirius stupidity, at its finest."  
  
Severus glared. "What *was* that?" He whispered again, dangerously this time, and shovign a pointed finger in the general direction of the door, so as to leave no confusion as to what he meant.  
  
Potter looked torn, as though he wasn't sure if he should say something or not, but Severus was going to weasel it out of him. He deserved to know now, after all. Potter sighed and rubbed his face. "That was a wolf."  
  
"No wolf is that big!" Severus realized with anger that he was still shaking. But Potter said nothing about his understandable fear, only looked down at his arm with a frown. There was a large abrasion and the sleeve had been torn away to reveal a nasty cut. For a moment Severus wondered if he'd been bit, before the Gryffindor began to pick bits of wood out of the blood and flesh. Perhaps he had only run into some furniture.  
  
"We should go see Dumbledore," Potter drawled out at last. "Sirius needs to be-"  
  
"Killed. Sent to Azkaban for the rest of his sodding life! How did he know that damned wolf-"  
  
"Maybe you shouldn't've followed him, then." Inwardly, Severus cursed himself. (For the millionth time.) He growled and stood up, his knees protesting the very movement, but he ignored them. 'You are *my* knees; you will listen to *me*'  
  
Potter stood as well and they made their way up to the castle, neither speaking or walking closer than ten feet of one another, except when they went through the front doorway. They walked all the way to Dumbledore's office in silence, and the door swung open to admit them to a smiling Dumbledore.  
  
"And what do we have tonight, hmm?" He asked, his smile fading at their appearances. "Is something the matter?"  
  
Without thinking, Severus exploded at the Headmaster. "You are *damn right* something's the matter! I *told* you Black was out to get me, but nobody listen to the Damned Slytherin! He tried to *kill* me! Sending me to meet with some *beast*-!"  
  
"Calm down now, Severus. Tell me what happened. Severus sighed and sank into a chair. "Black told me that if I went through the Willow, I could get into Hogsmeade, so I went." He paused, though more to swallow the nasty images in his mind than for the dramatic affect. He didn't notice the look on Dumbledore's face.  
  
"And I got *attacked* by this. . . thing. Then we got away." He refused to say Potter "rescued" him, because as far as he was concerned, he and Black were in on it together. They always were.  
  
Without another word, Dumbledore nodded gravely and sent a house-elf to fetch Black, (which he did in record time,) and gave them all tea to calm their nerves. Severus refused to acknowledge that he was still shaking.  
  
Black came in, and Dumbledore gave him such a tongue thrashing that the boy hung his head so low, his neck looked like it was about to snap. He denied nothing about the incident, and it gave Severus more pleasure than he thought. Black was going to be expelled!  
  
But alas, he was not, for Dumbledore could not having word about Lupin getting out.  
  
"Lupin?" Severus asked, dropping his tea cup. "What does *he* have to do with this?! He was not even there, so I hardly think it is fair for Black to *not* be punished-"  
  
"Lupin was there." Dumbledore said sternly. "He was the one who *UNWILLINGLY* attacked you."  
  
"I was attacked by a wol-" He stopped short, remembering the full moon and the sad, tired boy with sunken eyes. How the wolf was bigger than one that's average. He covered his mouth, silencing a gasp. "Lupin is a werewolf?" Dumbledore nodded gravely.  
  
"And I'm going to ask that you never tell another person- student or otherwise- about it. It is a clandestine affair." He paused, staring at Severus, whose face had gone paler than before and whose fists were clenched tightly.  
  
"I could have died!" He yelled, standing up and stomping over to the teacher's desk. "If I had been killed, what would you do then?! Deny I existed at all?! I am *sure* you could get away with it, considering *no one* cares for the *nasty, *greasy*, Slytherin boy!*"  
  
Dumbledore stood faster than should have been allowed and wrapped his arms around the screaming boy, whose face was now flushed with anger and who was shaking so badly he thought he might be in shock.  
  
"However," Dumbledore continued, ignoring the outburst and rubbing Severus in the shoulders as he bit the cloth of his own robes, trying to force down the tears that threatened to fall. "Sirius Black, I am afraid I *am* going to deduct housepoints, and I know that will make you very unpopular." Black nodded and asked:  
  
"How many?"  
  
"All of them."  
  
Though no one was very surprised, Potter did look a little dejected. He *had* won quite a few points from playing Quidditch. Dumbledore continued: "And the Gryffindor house must forfeit the cup, this year." He paused looking disappointedly at Black. "And you, son, shall have detention every day for the remainder of the year."  
  
He dismissed the Gryffindor boys soon after, leaving Black to the thoughts that he: "Would have to explain the missing points to his house on his own." Severus expected that Black might have a few black eyes and bruises in the morning, and reveled in the idea. He nearly smirked, rubbing his arms to keep the chill down, before he noticed a pair of eyes on him.  
  
He looked at Dumbledore and shot him a glare, but Dumbledore was nonplussed. "Severus, child, are you alright?" Severus shrugged haphazardly. "Do you wish to see Dr. Thatch?" Severus shook his head. He was very tired, and wondered what Lucius was doing. How was he going to explain his absence to him. . . but then he remembered their fight, and shook the thoughts away.  
  
"You know Black meant nothing by it, so please take no offense-"  
  
Severus waved him off. "I am tired, Headmaster. Perhaps I should be going to bed." Dumbledore turned sad eyes on one of his favourite students. It would shock the rest of the school to know it, but he had always admired the poor boy, and envied his strength. If only *he* could mask his emotions so well.  
  
Without waiting to be excused, Severus left the office and quickly found his way to the Slytherin common room. He felt rejected, having his life exchanged for a few lousy housepoints, and belittled, because Dumbledore actually expected him to believe someone *care* about him! He certainly was not stupid.  
  
His last thoughts found him in the dormitory, and suddenly enveloped in strong arms. Frightened for a moment, he let out a cry of shock and struggled, before recognizing the warm embrace. He turned to face Lucius, whose eyes were watering and lips were pouting. "Oh, Sev! I was so worried you'd run off! I thought that-" He cut himself off with a gasp, stepping away from the taller boy, but not releasing his grip on his arm. "Are you alright?" He demanded in a whisper, the green light reflected off his shiney eyes. Severus nodded, wondering if he looked alright.  
  
Lucius however, was fretting over him like an abandoned child. "You're crying!" he whispered hoarsely, his own eyes filling with tears again. "What happened, Sev? Are you hurt?"  
  
"No," Severus said simply, leading himself and his friend over to his bed. Having only answered one question, Lucius continued to prod. "What happened, Severus?" Severus laid down, and Lucius curled up right beside him, burrying his face in his neck.  
  
Severus said nothing, but stroked the white locks of hair. "Nothing," he finally whispered, "But we won the house cup."  
  
Lucius sat up suddenly, his face breaking into a beautiful grin. "What did you do to the Marauders?" Severus found himself smiling, despite his tears and his shame because of them.  
  
"'M not telling," he whispered into his friends neck, "but we won."  
  
Lucius let out a squeal and latched on to Severus' shoulders, pulling his half-clad body onto that of his friend, and pushed him down into the pillows. For a moment Severus thought the boy's joy had outweighted his concern of him, but he was wrong. "Then why are you crying?" He asked, his lips ghosting across Severus' own. How badly he wanted to lean forward, just a little!  
  
"Dumbledore hates me."  
  
"You're not a Gryffindor. That's expected."  
  
"Everyone hates me."  
  
"I don't." There was a pause as Lucius stared into his eyes, and Severus prayed his eyes didn't betray his feelings. After a moment, he trusted his voice enough to speak again.  
  
"You do not count."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
Severus bit his lip, noticing with a groan how Lucius had pulled away from his slightly. "Because," he said cryptically, "I do not *want* you to *like* me." Lucius pulled back even further, his eyes shaky from tears once again. Without his own knowledge, he began pouting beautifully. From Severus' point of view, he looked all of six years old, whining because his parents were ignoring him. And suddenly he felt a pang of guilt.  
  
"I want-"  
  
Lucius leaned forward and kissed him, rougher than the first and only time they had done it before. Severus gasped into the waiting mouth and bit his friends lip. Lucius yipped and scooted down on Severus' torso. His knees straddling Severus' narrow body, he tossed his head back, and with it many strands of perfect hair. "But I still like you." He said quietly, "I *really* do."  
  
Severus stirred underneath him. "Er, thanks?"  
  
Lucius bent his head down suddenly, and Severus felt warm tears drip onto his face. "I'm so sorry, Severus!" He exclaimed, "I shouldn't have forced you to be friends with me! But I *have* to be with you. You're," he paused, "you're my; you're like," after a few more uncomfortable seconds, Lucius looked up through his hair at his best friend. "I love you."  
  
Severus felt his whole boy tingle. No one ever loved him, except his mother, and now the most gorgeous man alive claims that-  
  
"What?" He wasn't sure if he had said the words or thought them, but Lucius responded by latching onto his body and wrapping thin arms around his chest and back. "I love you," he barely whispered, and the tingling came back into Severus' body and chest.  
  
"You do?"  
  
"Oh yes," Lucius cried, "I'm so very sorry!"  
  
Without thinking, Severus sat upright and sent Lucius toppling to the floor. He fell past the curtains and landed on the ground in an ungraceful heap with a thud. Without a seconds hesitation, he began to wail like a child. "Please don't hate me! I can't help it! I'm so sorry! I'm sorry!" But Severus jumped out of bed and scooped him up, helping him settle once again against the green sheets of the Slytherins.  
  
"I cannot hate you, Lucius. But do something for me?" Lucius stared up at him, his eyes bloodshot and his bottom lip trembling. He nodded absently. "Do stop crying."  
  
The blond sniffed loudly and forced a small smile. "Now," Severus said, "Kiss me again." Lucius nearly tumbled backwards for the second time.  
  
"What?"  
  
"You do not have to-"  
  
Lucius jumped on the opportunity (and Severus,) and kissed all over the thin-lipped mouth and the sallow, pale cheeks, and those black eyes, covered by thin lids, and wonderful face and hair. "Love me?" he asked as he kissed the neck of the boy who was unresponding, but not objecting. "Or are you humoring me?"  
  
Severus looked slapped and pushed Lucius back. "I do not find humor in love." He kissed Lucius' nose and pulled him back against his chest. "But then again, I have never found love before."  
  
Lucius whimpered as he groped at Severus' waist and robes. It took a while for the sound to make sense, but finally Severus understood. "I had not found love, *yet.* That does not mean I do not have it now."  
  
Lucius sniffed as he unbuttoned Severus' dusty robes. "Who?"  
  
"Well I am not about to sleep with someone who does not even know who he is!" Lucius gasped and pressed himself further against his friend's hips. "You love me too?"  
  
Severus nodded, but said nothing. "And you want to sleep with me?" This seemed to brighten the boy considerably, though the tears were streaming down his cheeks faster than before.  
  
Severus shrugged. "You have to lose your virginity sometime." Lucius nipped at Severus' collar. "To me?" He asked, and Severus responded with a kiss.  
  
But of course, with a silencing spell and closed curtains, I cannot honestly say *what* happened that night.  
  
Though I will.  
  
They fell asleep before they could get to anything, and Lucius had instead focused his efforts on getting Severus to confess his love, rather than nod at it dumbly. He wasn't about to sleep with someone who didn't love him; Malfoy's were taught better than that. No Malfoy wanted to be called a whore. So, though Lucius suspected that Severus had not *actually* fallen asleep, but was rather faking it, he let it go and settled against the body of his almost-lover, vowing to make him his soon-to-be-lover, and finally his ultimate love. Of course, this would take time, but he would see to it no less. Ah, the things people do for love.  
  
A/N: Sorry about the ending, but I have people over and I did not want them coming in and seeing that sort of thing. Anyways, the next chapter will have it. Promise! I think. . . 


	7. Sixth Year Summer

The Serpent's Tale: Sixth Year Summer  
  
  
  
Lucius waited eagerly on the flight of stairs leading from the main entrance to the second level sitting rooms. He watched as the House Elves scurried about, desperate to stay out of any human's way and struggling to make the house emaculate.  
  
Which it was. Like always. So there was really no reason to worry, but they set about doing it anyways, doting on the shiny polish on the suits of armor, fretting over the tiniest smudge of dirt, and generally begging for the Malfoy approval.  
  
Of course, only Lucius would be giving it. His parents were above thanking people for their services, and that was fine with him. He knew that someday he would not appreciate the marvelous job the elves did as they washed the windows or shined a vase, but he did now, and his eyes were gleaming with approval.  
  
For the most part, living in Malfoy Manor was not unlike living on a fancy, deserted island. There were fireplaces in nearly every room of the house, ensuring that the family could have emergency communication, if ever necessary, but that was about all he saw of his mother or father. His mother, and tall woman with strawberry blond hair, was always busy planning some big event or party, and would only see to Lucius to ensure his presence at the assembly. His father, a veela with no lack of female attention or affection, was often at work or in a meeting, though he still took time to teach Lucius some "mandatory" dark arts spells, since his "lousy excuse for a school" didn't teach them.  
  
Either way, he was a lonely child who spent most of his time reading books, writing letters to his swarm of female admirers, or writing to Severus. He smiled, his eyes glancing back towards to large, cherry oak front doors. Somewhere above the ceiling, the visitor bell rang loudly and nearly scared a house elf into falling off the banister it was polishing. Lucius grabbed him and set him down on the floor.  
  
"That's enough, now," he said before running full-thrust down the stairs and towards the doors. It would be a few minutes until the guest actually *made it* to the front door, but he wanted to be ready. In his head, he went through the obstacles he had written about.  
  
The first set of gates are always open to anyone with magical powers, and Lucius' mind echoed with the sound of the silver, metal doors swinging open. Then, it was a rather long walk until he came to a bridge, which would actually not appear until given identification, (Lucius had supplied his friend with a bit of hair from his last cut,) and then he was free to walk across it and over the "bottomless pit." (Somehow Lucius doubted it was *really* bottomless, because the men spent about ten minutes outside before claiming to be finished digging it.) After, there was a short maze of stone walls, (two lefts, a right, skip two turns, the rotating wall, and the steps leading downward through the garden gate,) then through a small garden with a fountain, on to another set of gates, where armored, enchanted soldiers stood. If the front doors hadn't been so thick, Lucius could probably have heard the guards' metal spears clanging together, so as not to allow the visitor passage before checking with one of the house occupants.  
  
A liquid-like voice flowed throughout all the rooms of the Manor. "Mr. Severus Snape requests the acquaintance of Young Master Lucius Malfoy."  
  
"Let him in!" Lucius called to no one, his face breaking into a smile despite his attempts to prevent it. Slowly the doors opened and the wind blew in some stray green leaves which had been shaken down, and whirled that beautiful black hair around Severus' severe face. Which was almost smiling. Lucius guided him in through the door, like a right host, and had a house elf take his bag. (One house elf actually turned into three, for they were so small.) "I'm so glad you came!" Lucius exclaimed, throwing his arms around Severus' shoulders, which stiffened noticeably. He pulled back slightly, his eyes wide.  
  
"What are you doing?" He demanded in a hoarse whisper, his eyes flickering around the expanse of the entry hall, where no one else was standing, never- the-less watching them.  
  
"I can give my own friend a hug, can't I?" Lucius demanded, feeling put-out and rather uncomfortable. Severus shrugged and turned away from him, taking in the look and feel of the room. The walls were white to add the illusion of height, though it was completely unecessary in a room so huge. Severus gave a mock whistle. "My house is all dark colors," he said, "kind of like the dungeons at school." He paused. "My house practically *is* a dungeon. I did not know people *had* white houses."  
  
Lucius snorted dismissively. "It makes it look expensive. Let's go to my room."  
  
"Err. . ."  
  
"Unless you want to meet my mother first."  
  
"Uh. . ."  
  
" 'S what I thought. C'mon; we'll get you all set up for the night." He used his right hand to coax Severus into walking, and lead him up the first flight of stairs. There was an ackward silence as Severus glanced around at the large hallways, accented by pictures of angry-looking Malfoy men and women, all clamoring for a view of the new visitor. "You can have your own room, you know." Lucius offered because of Severus' insistance at not allowing them to touch. "I just thought it would be better if we shared one, like at school."  
  
The only response he got from his friend was a shrug. Lucius sighed, 'If he's going to be difficult, fine,' he thought. They stopped in front of a large painting of what Severus could only guess was some sort of abstract plant, and Lucius stepped straight through it, declaring, "Short cut." In less than ten minutes, they had made their way to Lucius' room where his friends bag was waiting on the bed.  
  
"I'm glad you came, Sev," Lucius practically squeaked, his eyes wide with glee. "I think it's a pitty we don't get to see one another over the summer. And letters take so long. . ." Severus nodded.  
  
Nothing happened for a moment and Lucius was beginning to worry that Severus did not want to be here.  
  
"Who is that?" Severus asked at last, his hand gliding in the direction of a portrait, half covered by a closeable curtain, the only picture in the room. Many of the other paintings images were dropping into the frame.  
  
"Get out of here!" Lucius snapped, shooting glares at his long-dead, but ever-nosey relatives. He matched eyes with an older woman with grey hair and narrow slits for eyes, and stared her down. "I want some privacy, please." The woman nodded harshly and the extras in the picture began to leave.  
  
"Who is that?" Severus asked again, pointing towards the true inhabitant of the painting, who was straightening her bonnet and robes.  
  
"That's my Great Great something or another Great Aunt. She was a stickler for purity, so my parents decided it would be best if she kept a watch over my personal quarters."  
  
"All the time?"  
  
"All the time." Lucius frowned slightly. "I can close the curtains when I'm getting dressed, but she insists they stay open otherwise, or she'll tell my parents."  
  
"Why?"  
  
The blond let out a resigned laugh. "She wants me to stay a virgin until I get married. No girls are even allowed in my quarters." He waved and smiled bitterly at the old woman on the wall. Severus snorted.  
  
"So I suppose I have had the liberty to see your bedroom more often than Priscilla?" He sneered the last word in a mock attempt at imitation. Lucius frowned. "Of course," he mumbled, but moved on to put Severus' things on the floor.  
  
"Now, " Lucius announced, straightening the other boys robes (Severus continued to bat his hands away and glance around nervously,) and, once satisfied, clapped his hands together. "Let us meet my parents, shall we?"  
  
Severus paled. " 'Tay."  
  
In a vain attempt to put his friend at ease, Lucius began trying to get him to sing along with him, with no results at all. Except an ackward glare sent in his direction and a rather bemused sounding, "Are you alright, Lucius?" He sighed and ushered his friend towards the tea room where his mother said she would wait for them, because she "can't wait until I get to meet your charming friend." Of course, Lucius suspected she would not approve of Severus as much ad he had hoped, mainly because he wasn't the most attractive guy to ever set foot inside the manor. But they were "just friends," so she would eventually shrug it off.  
  
"We're here," Lucius said, gesturing to a set of French doors with white curtains hung behind the glass panels. Severus stiffened again, (Was he really that nervous?) but Lucius just smiled. "Just be polite and take your tea like a man."  
  
Then he rapped on the door three times and entered. In a chair on the left side of the room sat a thin, rather fragile looking woman with fingers too long for her hands and nails too red to be allowed. When she saw them enter, she glided over and gave her son a polite, distant hug.  
  
"Oh, hello dear!" She cooed, running her fingers through Lucius' hair in a fussing manner. Then she turned to Severus and nearly took a step back in shock. "Oh, my," she whispered before smiling once again. Severus bit his lip to keep from frowning.  
  
Lucius cleared his throat loudly and gestured towards his tall, shadowy friend. "Mother, this is Severus, my friend. Severus, this is my mother, Margarette Caprice Malfoy." Both nodded politely at one another, but there was palpable tension in the air.  
  
"Well," his mother sighed, "take a seat, won't you? How do you take your tea?" She poured each of them a cup, needing to ask her own son how *he* liked his tea, though Severus could have answered for him. "And you, Severus?" At least she was attempting to be civil and not scowl.  
  
"Black," he said simply, but added "with a little sugar," after he saw Lucius shake his head over his tea cup. The lithe woman handed him his cup and sat up straight.  
  
"So, Severus," she paused, sipping her tea for lack of anything better to do. "My son talks about you a lot. He seems he admires you very much." Although it wasn't a *lie,* Lucius frowned anyways. Yes, he *does* talk about Severus a lot, and he *does* admire him, but his mother would never have known that. She was just guessing. Severus smiled crookedly and nearly whimpered.  
  
"We're best friends," Lucius announced, seeming to be the only person in the room who knew how to act around unfavorable company. Even if he liked his mother, he didn't now. Margarette nodded and purposely looked away from Severus' knotted hair. At last, she cleared her throat lightly and set down her tea.  
  
"Honestly, I was expecting someone a bit different, dear." She seemed to have resolved herself to not looking nor speaking to Severus, which was alright with him. For a moment Lucius saw red, knowing how his mother treated guests who she didn't like. He had heard some of the things his mother had said to a woman at a party who had hit on her husband, and her voice was beginning to mimick that tone.  
  
"Were you?" He growled out, not trusting himself to speak more words than necessary to keep up polite conversation.  
  
She nodded solemnly. "A bit."  
  
"Someone a bit more attractive, maybe?" Severus said lightly, his voice airly and almost drunken. Lucius' mother looked affronted.  
  
"Now that is absolutely not what I meant," she said sternly, leaning forward in her chair. "I was expecting a man something like your father-"  
  
She trailed off at the end, when Severus' eyes grew wide and dark. "I am nothing like my father," he hissed, placing the teacup roughly down on the table. Lucius discreetly slipped his hand over his, and Severus pulled away as if he had been stung.  
  
"Well I see that now," Margarette whispered almost remorsely, looking at Severus with apologetic eyes. "And I am also sorry that I tried to discourage your friendship because of it." This part she said to Lucius, who face switched from a glare to a grin.  
  
"Anyways," the lady said as she stood and straightened her robes, "I must be readying myself for tonight." Her face turned from friendly to stern, "And I expect you *both* to be there, and *on time.* Am I completely understood?"  
  
"Completely," the boys chorused as she left the room.  
  
For a minute the boys just stared at one another before Lucius took one of Severus' hands. "That went well," he giggled, pulling Severus through the door and ignoring his pleas of, "Lucius! Someone will see!"  
  
The celebration started at six, as all the regular Malfoy parties did, and ran until midnight. Except for New Years, which ran from six at night to six in the morning, and Christmas, which lasted for 12 days, there were few holidays that ran otherwise. This party was for Assumption, though Severus was unsure as to what that *was,* exactly.  
  
Lucius slicked his hair with some gel from his dresser and looked back at Severus, who was struggling with a comb. "Just pull it back," Lucius suggested, watching at the static puffed out the black hair.  
  
Severus frowned at Lucius. "My father will be here, and he hates it when I put it up." Lucius shook his head, but said nothing, and Severus went back to his brushing. "You know," the taller boy prompted, "it never does this when it is dirty." Lucius knew he was referring to the fact that he had already taken two showers, and the day was not yet up.  
  
"Yes," he agreed, "but it's also *dirty.*" Severus snorted. "Pull it back! It'll look good. Who cares if your father-"  
  
"I do."  
  
Lucius sighed "Very well then." There was an uncomfortable silence for a moment before he opened the door to the outkirts of his quarters. "But it would look good up. You could say it was just for one night."  
  
Severus stared at his reflection until the mirror whistled. "I think he's right," the portait coaxed, "it will look classy. And if your father doesn't think so, he can come see me. My parties were *famous* back when I was alive, and I *always* looked good. Which explains why I had eight children. A record for the Malfoys, as I recall. . ."  
  
Lucius grabbed Severus and yanked him towards the door. "Never give her an opportunity, Sev. She can talk forever."  
  
They entered the hall early, watching as the elves swept the floor again and opened the doors leading out into the gardens. Lucius knew they did it for him, because he would always retreat into the fairy-lit garden when he got bored or tired, or just wanted to get away from the easy women.  
  
As the guests began coming, all at regular intervals of time, Lucius introduced Severus, or just whispered the person's name to him, in case he might need to know. Parkinson had come with both his parents, (his mother had gone straight for the alcohol,) and had decided to hang around a bit.  
  
"Priscilla here yet?" He asked, and Severus groaned loudly. Lucius was only half-listening as he tore a silver thread from the wrist of his robes. He looked dashing, to say the least, with his black robes and high collar, his hair set off by the silver trim. "No," he mumbled, then, "Aha!" as he got the strings free. He knew how undignified it look to have frayed sleeves, and he just prayed his mother didn't have time to notice.  
  
Severus, of course, had gone back to watching the door, waiting for his father's entrance. He wondered who he would bring as a date, now that his mother was gone and his son was not forced to linger by his side. Barely registering his hair being tugged, he spoke to Parkinson. "Have you seen my father yet?" The boy shook his head.  
  
"But I'll look for him if you look for- Priscilla!" He dashed over to his girlfriend and kissed her lightly on the cheek, ignoring the way her father rolled his eyes.  
  
Severus turned around to face Lucius. "I want to leave."  
  
Lucius smiled sadly. "So do I, but we're not allowed. Just sit back and make the most of it. There's food."  
  
Severus tried to force a smile when a hand came down on his shoulder. Jumping, he spun around to see Mrs. Malfoy beaming at him. "I was wondering if you two could help keep the children under wraps?" She nodded over to a small boy, maybe about eight or nine, who was standing sadly by the window while his mother knocked back a martini. Lucius sighed.  
  
"Sure, mother. When are the men retiring tonight?" The lady thought and responded "at around ten, I'd suppose," before floating off to greet more guests. For a second they watched the small boy stare at the moon, not causing any mischief, and moved away into the crowd to greet people, all complimenting Lucius on what a handsome young man he was. Most people looked stunned to see Severus,  
  
"Why Severus, old boy!" One man greeted him, "I haven't seen you since you were just a young liitle thing! Why don't you come to these sort of affairs anymore?" Severus tried to be polite and not say, 'because they are boring,' and instead replied, "My mother always went with father, and I did not wish to be a burden." The man stretched out and slapped him on the back.  
  
"Yep, kids are a burden. How's your mother doing, anyways? Haven'y seen her for a while."  
  
Lucius nearly jumped out of his skin and punched the man, watching as Severus' face shuttered off and his eyes turned sorrowful. "Uh," Lucius tried to cut in, but Severus stopped him by holding out his hand.  
  
"She passed on, a few years ago." His voice was tight and controlled, though he let his head drop slightly.  
  
"What was that?" the man asked jovially, and Lucius growled. Severus bit his lip hard, and Lucius stepped forward.  
  
"His mother died of an illness, a few years back, and I find it dreadfully rude of you to not listen carefully when you ask for a response." His hissed his words, challenging any of them to contest him, though he figured one would report him to his mother for being short with the guests.  
  
He guided Sev away from the group, all of who were mumbling apologies.  
  
"Are you alright?" Lucius asked as they neared a clear space in the large assembly hall. He gripped the sides of his friends' face and tried to make him look into his own, but Severus continued to look away. "Sev, are you okay? We can go outside for a bit." He shook his head and murmured something about being embarrassed, and Lucius hugged him. "It's alright, Sev." His friend nodded mutely and blinked back tears, two of which had fallen into silver hair, and another onto his robes.  
  
"Do you want to go back there, or do you want to stay here for a bit?" He used his thumb to wipe over each of the red eyes, hoping to still his friend's sadness.  
  
"Here." He said with finality, and Lucius was elated to be touching him in public, on the face no less, without him shying away. "And thanks." The blond smiled ruefully. 'Anytime,' he thought.  
  
They stood still as Lucius waited for his friend to finish calming down, before a deep voice cleared near Severus' ear.  
  
He jolted out of his reverie and gasped, staring at his father with eyes wider than Lucius had ever seen. "Father," he said breathlessly, and the man glared.  
  
"Severus," he snapped, and pulled the boy by the arm into a corner. Lucius began to fret.  
  
"I want you to call it off," Mr. Snape growled the moment they were out of earshot.  
  
"Call what off?" Severus breathed, the tears stinging his eyes again.  
  
"You know what I mean! Tell them you cannot stay here, and need to come home for family business." He whispered harshly, his voice venomous and threatening. Severus managed a weak, "Why?" before getting slapped roughly in the face.  
  
"I saw the way that boy was looking at you! I will *not* have you staying over this house with someone like *that!*" Severus held back a pout.  
  
"He was not looking at me-"  
  
"He was. I saw it; I'm not blind! If his father and I weren't such good friends, I'd-"  
  
"They asked about mother."  
  
Immediately the man's face softened and his eyes slowly stopped narrowing. "What? Who?" Severus managed to shrug under the weight and pressure of his fathers large hands and fingers digging into his arms. "I had to tell them," he coughed to keep from sobbing, "to tell them she passed away."  
  
His father looked suddenly angry and Severus feared he was about to be struck again. "I'll talk to them. They *knew* she was," his voice caught slightly, "gone." Severus looked up, his father still being almost an inch taller than him and standing upright, while he was slouched against the wall. Almost dreading the look in his eyes, he felt a warm tear slide down his face. The man seemed shocked. "Severus," he whispered, then eyed him oddly. "Severus, is that why-" He nodded to his father.  
  
"He did not want others to see. He knows it is shameful. I am very sorry, father, I-"  
  
"Stop it! Stop crying now, and you can stay." Severus sniffed loudly and wipped his eyes, hanging on to anything he could to keep back the sobs. "I suppose," the man added stiffly, "I mistook his expression for concern." He turned away and back into the hall, before moving back a step.  
  
"But for Merlin's sake, take down your hair."  
  
Severus gawked openly at his father for what seemed like an hour before he could close his mouth and think properly. "What the. . .?" He grumbled as he tugged at his ponytail. "I never did this." But just as he tried to take it down, Lucius came trotting up in front of him.  
  
"What happened?" He pried, noting the redness on his friend's cheek, but not daring to reach out and touch it. "Is he mad? What did you do?"  
  
Severus shook his head. "We sorted it out. It was all a misunderstanding." He pulled at the lock of hair tied loosely at the base of his neck by a silver string. "When did I do this?" he asked, reaching pitifully for the top of it.  
  
Lucius batted his fingers away. "Don't. It looks good like that."  
  
"My dad hates it." He said flatly. Lucius crinkled his nose then directed him towards a butler holding out a tray, in order to distract him from his preoccupation. Severus picked up something that looked like a pastry and Lucius took a crystal glass of what looked like pudding.  
  
"I'm hoping this is vanilla," Lucius joked, tasting the white cream with the tip of his tongue. He coughed once, then smiled. "*Definately* not vanilla, but I'm not complaining."  
  
Severus stared at his own dessert. "Apple?" He asked, and Lucius shrugged, urging him to take a bite. It wasn't apple, but honey, and he recognized it as cold baklava. "Not bad," he affirmed as they continued to walk the perimeter of the room and smile falsely at irritating guests. It was nearly nine o'clock, and soon the men would retire to one of the studies to smoke cigars and talk about their women.  
  
"Too much honey," Severus whined as he took another bite out of his fifth baklava. Lucius had tried to choose one of everything, and there was a trashcan full of the expirements he disapproved of. "I am not used to things that are so sweet." Lucius grinned.  
  
"I'm sweet."  
  
Severus snorted. "Do you want this?" He asked, holding up one last bite of the pastry. The shorter boy contemplated this, he was rather full, but nodded and leaned forward. He had intended to take the entire treat into his mouth, but had overshot and bit lightly into Severus' finger, who laughed.  
  
"Hey, I begin where this thing ends!"  
  
Lucius tried to hold back his giggles and he licked the rest of the honey of his friend's fingers, pointedly ignoring how much he enjoyed doing so.  
  
"You know, if you want it so much, just go get some." Lucius nearly choked on the delicate fingers in his mouth.  
  
"What?" He asked, pulling back and shooting Severus an odd look. The latter rolled his eyes.  
  
"The server is right over there," he pointed and turned Lucius so he faced him directly. "If you want it to badly, just take it."  
  
The other boy pouted. "Oh."  
  
"Oh, what?"  
  
"Nothing."  
  
"Well, it was *something.*"  
  
"No really, it wasn't. I just don't know why I haven't seen my dad." He decided not to mention that his father was a veela, and therefore very likely to be somewhere in the middle of the pile of single (and some not-so- single,) women.  
  
"He looks like you," Severus murmured nonchalantly, pointing to someone a few feet away from him. "And he is staring, too."  
  
Lucius looked over, and sure enough his father was standing with a bunch of women hanging on his arms. His mother seemed to have left the hall for something, and all the ladies were on their own to claim him. The blonde's eyes lit up when he saw his son look back at him,  
  
"Ah, there you are, Lucius! I was looking for you!" He managed to shrug quite a few of the ladies off with one movement. He practically ran over to greet him.  
  
"Are you enjoying yourself, son?"  
  
Lucius feigned excitement. "Oh yes, it's grand." Mr. Malfoy wrapped his arm around his thin shoulders and held him for the women to look at.  
  
"Now if he isn't a great piece of work, I don't know who is!" He concluded by punching him roughly in the shoulder and turning away from his fan club.  
  
"And who might this be?" He asked at last, sizing Severus up with his eyes. Then, looking at least slightly appeased, "I saw you talking earlier. You're Edgar's son, right? Severus? Lucius seems to be quite taken with you as of late. I'm glad he's made at least *one* friend who's worth his weight."  
  
Severus shook his hand as the older man scowled. "Some of those peopel at your school-" he made a strangled noise, "I mean: Mudbloods! Everywhere! That place is going to hell."  
  
Severus laughed along with him, the sound sonorous and beautiful to Lucius' ears, even if it was rather forced. "Your father and I are great friends. We go way back to Hogwarts, maybe even before then. At least some people are still giving their children a proper wizarding education."  
  
Severus wondered vaguely why, if their fathers were such good friends, the two of them had never met until their first year at Hogwarts. The man continued to ramble on, pulling Severus every which way and introducing him to many of the guests, some of which he had already met, but pretended he hadn't.  
  
"Father," Lucius begged at last, hoping to not sound too whiney for his father's taste. "Maybe Sev and I can go do something else-"  
  
A squeal erupted from a couple meters away, and suddenly something with brown fur latched on to Lucius' right arm. "OH *Lucius!* I was looking *all* *over* for you!" Severus grumbled and began to walk away, but Lucius stepped on the back of his robes and held him in place.  
  
"Hello, Priscilla. It's very nice to see you again, but Severus and I were just heading out into the gardens-"  
  
"Ooh! I love your gardens! Can I come too?" She cooed and continued to squeeze his arm with every word, batting her eyes and rubbing against him. Somewhere in all the fuss, Mr. Malfoy managed to slip away and was watching the scene with his wife.  
  
"Um, sure, Priscilla. You may come. We would very much enjoy your company, *won't we,* Severus?" The other boy moaned and continued to try and tug his robe tail away. His efforts went unrewarded, however, as he was dragged out into the garden to sit on the edge of a fountain, as Priscilla fawned over Lucius on the bench. Mere minutes had passed, though Severus would later swear it had been hours, when another girl pranced out and practically sat i the blond's lap. Their hair matched perfectly, and Severus used a moment to wonder if they were related, before recognizing the girl.  
  
"Hello, Severus," she greeted formally, trying (and succeeding beautifully) to appear more classy than Priscilla.  
  
"Hello Narcissa," he sighed back, wanting nothing more than to go back inside and go to bed. They fussed over him for a while longer before Lucius stood up abruptly.  
  
"Ladies, ladies!" He admonished them, just as Narcissa had leaned forward to kiss him on the mouth, "I apologize for the bad timing, but it's nearly ten o'clock, and the men are to meet."  
  
Priscilla whined. "Don't go with the other boys, Lucius. Stay out here with us; we'll take good care of you." Narcissa nodded her head silently, her neatly pinned hair coming undone slightly. Lucius shook his head, his once slicked back hair now becoming a little soft around the edges.  
  
"Severus and I really should be going-"  
  
"Severus can go alone. You stay here."  
  
"He is my guest. I simply cannot-"  
  
"We're your guests too!" Priscilla shrieked, "Just let him go! Honestly, who is more important?"  
  
Lucius smirked at the ladies on the bench and bowed low. "We really *must* be going. Come now, Severus."  
  
Severus did as he was told, albeit a little more than reluctantly, and they made their way into the house, ignoring the girls as they sobbed together.  
  
"You are getting soft around the edges," Severus whispered, and Lucius bristled.  
  
"I left, didn't I?"  
  
Severus smled, his comment misinterpretted in one of the best ways. "I meant your hair." Lucius blushed as they made their way to the main study, where most of the men were already waiting, some alcoholic beverage in their fist. Lucius received some harsh words from his father for being late, but otherwise remained unscathed as they watched and listened as the older wizards drank.  
  
"Fancy that," one wizard remarked as he peered down the neck of a tequila bottle. Severus could already guess at what he was looking at. Lucius had noted that, while drunk, majority of the men admitted to his father that they covetted his wife, and he brushed them off saying, "If she wasn't my wife, I'd covet her too." And of course, they all had a big laugh. Lucius made some drinks for the older, more wasted men, and Severus would pour scotch for everyone but his father, who glared fiercly at him but decided on a lighter drink instead.  
  
Lucius leaned closer to Severus on the large chair they shared. "Are you out with me?"  
  
"I beg your pardon?" He responded, still watching as the other occupants of the room began playing a game of cards. A muggle game, unless he was mistaken. Lucius noticed the way he scooted away, so that their bodies wouldn't touch.  
  
"Because of those girls. Are you mad?"  
  
"No. If I got mad everytime someone hit on you instead of me. . ."  
  
"Did you want them to hit on you?" Lucius sounded incredulous, and at the same time felt a little hurt. Severus shook his head irritatedly.  
  
"I want to go to bed. I have something to show you."  
  
Lucius smiled, but stopped at the glare he recieved. "What is it?" he questioned, leaning in closer. "Oh, and just because you change the subject, doesn't mean I'll forget it."  
  
Severus sighed. "They were pining all over you."  
  
"Yes," Lucius agreed, "but I don't recall myself pining over either of them. Believe me, it's not as fun as it looks."  
  
"Oh yes," Severus snarled, "we should invent a torture chamber where men who commit crimes are subjected to hours of fawning from two or more girls." He paused to glare again. "We would have men all over the world slaughtering people so they could be punished."  
  
Lucius crossed his arms, suddenly in a foul mood. They remained silent while the men finished their games and said goodnight, but Lucius ignored his temperment for a moment to visit Mr. Snape, who was about to leave without saying goodbye to his son.  
  
"Why would I say goodbye? He knows I'm leaving."  
  
Lucius knitted his brows. "Maybe he wants you to." The other man said nothing, just picked up his coat and left the room. Lucius whimpered in frustration. No wonder Severus was so icy.  
  
Lucius left with Severus a few minutes later, and Sev waited until they were out of earshot before pushing Lucius against an empty hall wall.  
  
"What did you talk to my father about?" He whispered, not so much angry as hurt. Lucius patted his friend's arm.  
  
"I said goodnight, that's all. Don't worry." Severus obviously didn't believe a word of it, but let the subject drop. "Now," Lucius announced as they entered his bedroom and began shedding his clothes, "What did you want to show me?"  
  
Severus toed off his shoes as Lucius flung off his own, and made his way over to his bag. Opening a small pocket, he pulled out a small bag filled with something that made Lucius blush.  
  
"Severus! What are those for?!"  
  
Severus shrugged and sat down next to the blond, who was now stripped down to only his boxers. "I know they are muggle things, but I find them neat," he said, opening the bag and setting one in the palm of Lucius' hand, who blushed farther.  
  
"Severus-"  
  
"You put it in your mouth," he continued, and Lucius slipped off the side of the bed. Severus peeked over the edge at him. "Are you alright?"  
  
Lucius pulled himself up and looked him in the eyes, grey meeting beautiful black. "You know, we don't need these. . ."  
  
"No," Severus admitted, looking dejected and trying to take back the small package in Lucius' hand, "I guess not." Lucius frowned as he read the lable, determined to give it a shot, even if he knew he wasn't going to like it, just to keep his friend happy.  
  
"They glow?!" He announced, his face, neck and ears all hot with blood.  
  
"Well, yes," Severus said, tearing open a package and pulling out-- a stick?  
  
"It's a stick?" Lucius exclaimed, utterly confused by now. Severus quirked an eyebrow. "Yes," he said slowly, "it has chemicals in it that makes it glow."  
  
Lucius continued to gawk and sputter, and Severus watched him with concerned eyes. "What did you *think* it was. . .?"  
  
Lucius mumbled 'nothing' before copying Severus and putting the stick into his mouth. He could see the faint yellow glow through the skin in his friend's cheeks, and he knew Severus could see past his own sparkling white teeth.  
  
"It's weird," Lucius said, laying down on his bed and using his wand to set out the lights. Severus began to lay on the floor, but he held him back. "Stay up here," he instructed, and at Severus' nervous glance at the portait on the wall, continued, "I like to see it glowing." Somehow it made Severus blush, and the glow in his cheeks faded to almost nothing. Having his great aunt asleep, Lucius pulled the curtain closed with one arm and turned to face his companion.  
  
Almost immediately, the two fell asleep, neither one having the sense to spit out the glowing stick before doing so. Unconsciously, Lucius began to chew on the plastic in his mouth.  
  
Almost all at once, a bitter, horrible taste flooded his mouth, and he fell off the bed again, coughing loudly enough to wake his bedmate.  
  
"Lucius?" He asked worriedly, patting him lightly on the back and crouching on the floor. "What happened?" He spit out his own stick in favor of speaking better, and continued to rub the blond's back until he turned to him.  
  
"I bit it," he said hoarsly, looking at the stained, glowing ground from where he spit and back up to his friend, who was running fingers through his now-limp, disheveled hair.  
  
"That was stupid," Severus confirmed, looking also at the glowing stain on the floor. "We should clean that up before it stays permanently." Lucius nodded, and quickly conjured up a wet sponge, not wanting to alert any of the house elves to his stupid mistake. Severus sat on the edge of the bed and watched him as he scrubbed furiously at the carpet.  
  
There was a click somewhere near the door and Lucius shoved the wet sponge under the bed and tried to wipe the remaining stain off his arms and boxer shorts. The door swung open and entered Margarette, who immediately turned on the lights.  
  
"Lucius, I-" her words came to a halt as she stared at them. Severus, leaning partly over the edge of the bed, and her son, crouched down on his knees directly in front of him. He turned, and to her shock she saw a whiteish liquid covering his lips and chin, and even some on his clothes. She gasped. "What are. . . What. . . What?"  
  
"Mum!" Lucius gasped, wiping the back of his hand across his chin and looking sheepish. "I'm sorry. We made a mess." The woman in the doorwar continued to move her mouth noiselessly, but came forward and knelt down by him.  
  
"What are you doing?" She managed at last, and spared a glance at a thouroughly embarrassed Severus.  
  
"I bit it," Lucius coughed out, and the lady looked even more shocked.  
  
Severus quickly got the hint and picked up the bits of plastic Lucius had spit out. "I brought some things over, and he bit one. They are very poisonous, and he spit it on your rug."  
  
Margarette smiled. "Oh, I see. Well, why don't we get a house elf to clean it up?"  
  
"It's alright," Lucius whispered, "I got it already."  
  
Once again, the beautiful woman smiled and stood with her son. "Well, I just came up to say goodnight." She paused and patted each of the boys on the head fondly, smiling reassuringly at each of them. Then, moving towards the door, she stopped before closing it and whispered in a rather giggly voice: "You have no idea what I thought I saw."  
  
The door clicked closed and Lucius slumped down onto his bed. "I think I have a pretty good idea," he laughed, and Severus attempted to as well. It was just too late not to find the situation quite hilarious.  
  
Of course, it goes without saying that both boys were quite embarrassed the next morning at breakfast, and neither one of them could meet Margarettes eyes for the remainder of the vacation.  
  
A/N: Well that only took forever. Let me see. . . Any reviews? Like it? Not? Was the summer a bad idea? I just figured I should put them somewhere outside of the school, though they still had most of the same people. Also, I know I made Lucius' parents seem nice, but so are all evil people. Once you think about it, even some of the most awful people are nice to the people they like. 


End file.
